


Long Distance

by tomsfronttooth



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Betrayal, Broadway, Daddy Dom Tom Hiddleston, Daddy Kink, Doggy Style, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Long-Distance Relationship, NSFW, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex in a Car, Shower Sex, Tom has a thing for boobs, Travel writer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2020-10-18 21:47:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20646170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomsfronttooth/pseuds/tomsfronttooth
Summary: Tom is in the midst of a successful theater run in London's West End, and looking forward to bringing Loki back for more on his new Disney streaming series. His busy schedule and past public breakups have soured him on having any kind of a serious relationship, but when he meets a beautiful and charming travel writer on his flight to New York, will she be the one to make him rethink a serious commitment?Lots of smut and feels!





	1. Take-Off

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first post to AO3 but I've been kicking around this idea for awhile - hope you guys enjoy! Let me know in the comments! 
> 
> **Disclaimer: I make no pretenses that Tom is anything like how I portray him in this work - this is smut and fantasy only, so enjoy!
> 
> Also, I've tried and failed to post some images for this story, so I've posted my Chapter 1 collage for locations and pics of what the characters are wearing, etc here: https://flic.kr/p/2hfwsDt

_ “Ladies and gentlemen, we ask that you take your seats as soon as possible so that we may depart on time to our final destination of JFK Airport. Your assistance is greatly appreciated and we thank you for flying American Airlines today. _”

Tom settled into his seat in first class, placing his messenger bag in the overhead bin, but taking his phone, iPad, and headphones out first. Even with all the extra leg room, first class was still slightly on the cramped side, so he tended to try and get the aisle seat where he could, so he could stretch his long legs out a bit more. He placed his iPad in the pocket of the seat in front of him and buckled himself into his seat. He opened up his phone, scrolling through a few emails from his agent, Luke, regarding itinerary details for the next few days in New York. He had been in LA for the past week, taking meetings and making a surprise Comic-Con appearance for the new Loki series. It had been great catching up with most of his Marvel family, but he had to admit, he was feeling run-down by this point, having flown into LA right from his three-month long run of his play in London. He had been working non-stop and the time changes always messed with him. 

The plane had filled in around him, and just as it was looking like the empty seat next to him wasn’t going to be filled, he heard a voice from outside the plane door.

“Sorrysorrysorry! I’m here!”

  
A young woman came into the main cabin, breathless and flushed, gripping her boarding pass against her chest, her thick, brown hair fanning around her head in shiny waves. Her porcelain, heart-shaped face was slightly flushed with exertion, and the sweet, apologetic smile she flashed the flight attendant made her jade-green eyes sparkle. Tom watched in interest as she spoke briefly to the flight attendant and watched as the attendant motioned her hand towards Tom. The young woman smiled and nodded, and Tom sat up, realizing she was coming towards him.

  
She stopped next to him and looked down into his eyes, a small smile on her face. 

  
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice musical, but with a slightly throaty quality to it that Tom immediately found sexy. “May I?”

  
“Oh, of course,” Tom stuttered, quickly unbuckling his seatbelt and moving into the aisle so she could take the seat next to him. She moved to take her stylish tote off her shoulder, and Tom immediately opened the overhead bin for her.

  
“Here, I can help with that,” he said, gesturing to her bag.

“Oh, thank you,” she said, handing it to him.

  
She moved into their two-person aisle, settling into the seat as Tom placed her bag in the compartment and sat back down, fastening his seatbelt again. 

  
“I apologize for the inconvenience,” she said, moving to fasten her own around her waist. “I got stuck in security - two of their scanning machines broke down, so I had to run the whole way just to make the plane!”

  
Tom chuckled, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Not at all - at least you made it. Are you from LA, or were you just visiting?”

  
“I live in LA, but I travel a lot for work, so I’m pretty much on the go most of the year.”

  
“Ah, can I guess what you do for work?”

  
She smiled coyly as the plane started taxiing slowly away from the gate. 

  
“Okay - if you guess right, I’ll buy you a drink.”

  
“Deal.”

  
Tom took a minute, furrowing his brows comically as he examined her. He was glad of the opportunity to take a better look at her, as she was stunning. Her outfit was casual, but chic. Her shapely legs looked like they had been poured into her stylishly faded jeans, and her navy blazer fit perfectly around her curves, the sleeves rolled expertly up to just below her elbows. The white v-neck shirt she wore was made of such a thin cotton that he could just barely spy a sexy white lace bra underneath it. A simple gold pendant in the shape of a honeybee hung from around her neck, ending at the top of her very generous breasts. Tom shifted his legs slightly away from her, as he could already feel his cock stirring.

  
“Hmmm...let’s see,” he said. “Are you a model?”

  
She rolled her eyes playfully. “A model, really?"

  
He laughed, holding his hands up defensively. “Hey, I calls ‘em as I sees ‘em,” he said. “Stylish, beautiful woman who travels a lot for work? First thing that came to mind.”

  
“Yes, not a lot of stylish, beautiful women who are also doctors or CEO’s or executives,” she said, good-naturedly.

  
Tom nodded, his face turning red in embarrassment. “Totally right, my bad,” he said. “Well, in looking at your necklace, my next guess was going to be ‘bee-keeper’ so if that’s right then I’m really going to enjoy my bragging rights.”

  
She looked down, taking the bee pendant between her fingers and bringing it up in front of her face.

  
“Well, bee-keeper would definitely be interesting, but sadly no - my mom gave this to me, cause she used to call me ‘Bea.’ My name’s Beatrice, by the way.”

  
She held out her small hand and Tom immediately shook it, his much larger one immediately swallowing it. 

  
“Tom,” he said. “Beatrice? As in ‘Much Ado About Nothing’?’”

  
She cocked her head in surprise. “You are the first person to get that!”

  
Tom smiled triumphantly. “Well, when you’ve done as many Shakespeare productions as I have, it tends to get into your subconscious.”

  
They both felt the plane finally complete it’s ascent, leveling out above the clouds.

  
“You’re an actor?” 

  
Now it was Tom’s turn to be surprised. It had been awhile since someone didn’t recognize him. He was the first to admit he had a somewhat healthy ego due to his celebrity, but the fact that this beautiful creature had no idea who he was pleasantly refreshing and freeing. 

  
“I am,” he said. “Both theater work and film, but lately mostly films.”

  
She sat up in her seat, moving to take her blazer off. As she did, Tom’s eyes were drawn to her breasts as she thrust them forward slightly to maneuver the garment down her arms. He couldn’t help it, he had always been a breast man.

  
“Any movies I might know?”

  
“Ah, well…let’s see.” he said, and leaned closer to Beatrice, his arm moving to the built-in touchscreen in the seat in front of her, bringing up the in-flight movie menu. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her examining his profile with curious interest.

  
He scrolled through the movies, and found _ Avengers: Infinity War _, selecting it with his finger, which brought up the details on her screen. 

  
He sat back in his seat again, as she sat forward slightly, examining the screen, her eyes going wide.

  
“You’re in_ this _?”

  
Tom smiled and nodded, biting his lower lip, his eyes flitting away from her briefly. He realized he was nervous. Being a child of divorce, he had always been a bit of a people pleaser, but that had dissipated slightly when he achieved more success and grew in confidence. However, he couldn’t help the base, beta-male instinct coursing through him right now that wanted nothing more than to impress this woman.

  
She smiled excitedly at him. “Well, then I definitely have to watch it now.”

  
They settled into the flight, Tom ordering a Jameson on the rocks for himself and insisting on buying a glass of Perrier-Jouët for Beatrice, as he had legitimately lost the bet. He found out she was a travel writer for Lonely Planet, and was heading to New York for meetings.

  
“Wow, that’s incredible,” Tom said, more than a little impressed. “I use your guidebooks quite a bit.”

  
“Aww, thank you,” she said, taking a sip of her champagne. “I love it when people let me know that they actually find them useful.”

  
“So how long have you been writing for them?”

  
Beatrice ran a hand thoughtfully through her thick, dark tresses. Tom watched the seemingly innocuous action intently, his pulse quickening slightly.

  
“I think almost ten years now,” she finally said. “Started in the bottom rungs when I was twenty-four and worked my way up to head writer in about six years.”

  
“That’s incredible,” Tom said. “How many countries have you traveled to?”

  
“Oh, at least forty or fifty. I’ve lost track. I’ve traveled to a lot of them more than once.”

  
“Which ones are your favorites?”

  
She leaned back in her seat a bit, taking a moment to really think about the question. 

  
“Iceland is a favorite, mostly because we lived there for a little while when I was a kid and still have friends there, but I also love Scotland, Italy, Tokyo, Turks & Caicos, Maine, and London.”

  
“Wow, that’s a diverse selection,” Tom said, shifting towards her more. “I’m assuming considering how long you’ve been doing this that you enjoy it?”

  
“I love it,” she said, without hesitation. “I get to see the world as part of my job and meet new people and discover new places and have new experiences. Don’t get me wrong, traveling is not without its headaches sometimes, but I get to make a living doing what I love every day. Not a lot of people get to say that.”

  
Tom smiled. He admired Beatrice’s passion and work ethic as they seemed to mirror his own. She was incredibly successful even at a young age, but somehow seemed to be incredibly level-headed and grounded in reality about it. It was something he aspired to himself. He also learned she was an only child, parents had also divorced like Tom’s in her early teens, she had a Master of Fine Arts in Literature from Amherst College, and that she smelled distractingly like warm vanilla and orchids.

  
Beatrice was also finding herself increasingly distracted by Tom as they talked. His eyes were the most hypnotic shade of blue, and she loved the way his long, elegant fingers animated when he spoke excitedly. And when he spoke? Oh lordy. His accent was the auditory equivalent to butter melting slowly over warm pancakes and seemed to make her spine tingle every time. 

  
They both eventually stretched out in their luxury seats after their in-flight meal was served. Tom checked a few emails on his laptop before opening up a book and Beatrice leaned back to watch _ Infinity War _, covering herself with a soft cotton throw she had put in her carry-on. Tom couldn’t help but watch her reactions, particularly to his Loki scenes in the beginning. He knew she didn’t have the full Loki context as she had never seen those movies, but it was fascinating to see her face furrowed in concern and then her eyes go wide and sad at his death scene. She didn’t seem to hide anything with her expressions and Tom found himself drinking in every emotion that passed across her lovely face.

  
Around the time the Avengers were battling Thanos’s army in Wakanda, Tom looked over and noticed she was asleep. Her long lashes were fanned out across her pale, smooth cheeks, soft, pink lips parted softly as her breathing became slow and relaxed. Tom’s eyes flitted down to the front of her shirt, where her breasts were pressed together enticingly from laying on her side. Her cleavage looked like a creamy, smooth feast to him, and he wanted nothing more than to press his face between that bounty until he couldn’t breathe. He would die a happy man, that’s for sure. 

  
Tom finally closed his book and laid back, the soft hum of the planes engines and the darkened cabin finally lulling him to sleep as well.

****

When he finally woke up, he felt something against his shoulder and realized it was Beatrice’s head. He smiled to himself, and moved a little to adjust in the seat, but she stretched at his movement, her eyes still closed, an indignant little mewl leaving her lips as she nuzzled in even more to his shoulder. Tom smiled, in no hurry for her to wake up as he was very pleased with the close contact, especially the part of him still concealed in his now quite tight-fitting pants.

  
Their faces were only inches away when he saw one beautiful, jewel-green eye open up, meeting his blue ones. She immediately smiled sleepily at him, until she realized she was all but laying on top of this total stranger (sickeningly handsome though he may be). 

  
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry - I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” she said, sitting up, her face going red, obviously mortified. “I wasn’t out for too long was I?”

  
Tom chuckled at her embarrassment. “Not at all, it was no bother at all.”

  
“I can’t believe I fall asleep and then I’m just all over your personal space!”

  
Tom gave her a sly grin. “I liked having you in my personal space.”

  
Now Beatrice’s cheeks flushed red for an entirely different reason. 

  
The flight crew came through one last time for beverages before they began their descent into New York City. The sky outside was now dark, and the captain came over the intercom saying that they would be touching down around a little before 6:00pm, New York time. Tom and Beatrice continued to chat, though since she had woken up practically on top of Tom, there was definitely a more overt tone of flirtation to their banter. 

  
Tom explained to Beatrice that he was going to New York for some early promotion of his upcoming Loki series for Disney’s pending streaming service, as well as taking some business meetings, as the producers of his London play were looking to bring it to Broadway in the near future.

  
“Wow! Broadway? That would be amazing,” she said, taking a sip of her ginger ale. “I hope I’m here in New York when it runs - I’d love to come see it.”

  
Tom smiled. “I’d love for you to come see it too, and if you do, I’ll get you the best seats in the house.”

  
Beatrice bit her lip playfully, her eyes sparkling. 

  
“Are you in New York a lot?” Tom asked.

  
“I do visit here quite a bit as Lonely Planet’s corporate base is here, but I do bounce around most of the year - mostly between LA and New York, but I’m hoping to get over to the UK soon since we’re going to start work on our updated London guide soon.”

  
“Well, when you get there you’ll have to hit me up and I can show you around - or actually, you may be more qualified to show _ me _ around at this point,” he laughed.

  
Beatrice decided to go for it. 

  
“Give me your number and I just might take you up on it.”

  
Tom tried to conceal a triumphant smile as he motioned her to hand over her phone. He entered his cell number and handed it back to her, their fingers brushing briefly. She looked at it and typed something quickly. Tom heard his own phone chirp and he brought up the text message she sent:

  
_HI FROM THE SEAT NEXT TO YOU._

He broke into a huge grin, looking over at her as she gave a little wave. He turned towards her, brushing his index finger across his lower lip thoughtfully.

  
“Beatrice, I don’t know what you have going on tonight, but would you like to meet up with me for dinner? I don’t have any meetings until late tomorrow morning and the plane dinner was nowhere near satisfying enough for me. I’ve really enjoyed talking to you and I’d like to get to know you better.”

  
Beatrice pressed her lips together, trying to conceal a smile. She looked up, her gaze warm but piercing and Tom had to stop himself from grabbing her neck and bringing her into him for a crushing kiss.

  
“I’d love to,” she said softly. “I don’t have anything until tomorrow either. Where are you staying?”

  
“I’m at the Ritz-Carlton but I can come pick you up wherever.”

  
“Perfect. I’m at the Park Hyatt - it’s only about a block or two away from you.”

  
"Have you ever been to Per Se?"

  
Beatrice had to suppress a squeal of delight. Ever since she had been going to New York, she had wanted to go to Per Se - particularly to try the macaron trio dessert they were known for. 

  
“I haven’t - that sounds perfect.”


	2. The Mile-High Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There be smut ahead :)
> 
> Once again, since I can't figure out how to post pics on here, you can see images for places/people/wardrobe for this chapter at my Flickr page here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/184448556@N07/48735290322/in/dateposted-public/

Their landing into JFK Airport was smooth and Tom helped Beatrice off the plane, walking to the baggage claim together. They agreed to give themselves an hour to change and settle into their respective rooms and Tom would come pick her up. Before they parted for their separate taxis, Tom leaned down and kissed Beatrice softly on the cheek, giving a sultry, “see you soon, darling,” before getting into his cab.  


She knew after such a long trip she should be tired, but Beatrice’s body practically hummed in excitement on her way to the hotel. She touched her cheek again where he had kissed it, surprised at how soft his lips were. Initially, she felt embarrassed that she didn’t know he was a famous actor, but Tom was very sweet about it and seemed to actually be a little bit relieved. Beatrice didn’t blame him, especially when she started Googling him once she got into her taxi. He seemed to be photographed almost everywhere he went, especially if he was with women. And he had dated some very beautiful women. Beatrice shrugged it off though. They were not in a relationship and of course he is going to have a romantic history, as she had her own too. Marcus immediately flitted across her mind, and she quickly shoved him away. It had been almost a year since he had ended their engagement, saying she was too focused on her career to ever be a good wife to someone - too much time traveling and working, not enough time to focus on a relationship. His words had initially made her doubt her choice of career, plummeting her into a deep depression, but thankfully, her friends and colleagues helped rally her and Beatrice decided to pour herself into her work even more. Serious relationships were just something she didn’t feel ready for right now. That being said, she was also a grown woman with needs and Tom was probably the sexist man she had ever seen. She didn’t want to put any expectations on the evening, but it was pretty hard not to notice him staring at her breasts several times during the flight. Her own physical attraction to Tom was understandable, with those piercing blue eyes, long, lean body, and thick dark auburn curls, but more than any of that she found herself drawn to his personality, which was a study in contrasts. He was devastatingly intelligent and witty, but had a small-boy goofiness to him that was fun and endearing. He also was extremely attentive and polite, but under that proper, well-bred exterior seemed to smolder a darkly dominant sexuality. The very possibility of it made her shiver.  


She finally arrived at her hotel, checking in and immediately flopping her suitcase onto the dove gray settee at the end of her bed. Since Tom was picking her up in about an hour, she decided to take a quick shower to rinse the grime of airline travel off of her, but not wash her hair, as it would take too much time.   


She grabbed her toiletry case and walked into the black marble bathroom, turning the shower on. Beatrice never used the toiletries the hotels provided, preferring instead to travel with the comforts of home. She pulled her long mane of dark mahogany hair up, piling it in a messy bun on top of her head, and stepped into the large shower.   


The warm water felt soothing on her tired, plane-cramped muscles and she massaged in a generous amount of her Tom Ford body wash into her arms and torso. She normally didn’t splurge on beauty items, but as she interacted with a significant amount of people on a daily basis, it was worth it to her to spend a little more to ensure she always smelled good. She shaved her legs and silently thanked herself for getting a bikini wax before she left L.A.  


Getting out and wrapping herself in one of the hotel’s ultra-plush white towels, she lotioned herself from head to toe, and let her hair out of its bun, brushing it out and applying some dry shampoo spray to bring back some volume and movement. She walked out into the bedroom and opened up her suitcase, debating over what she should wear. She had some casual dresses, but then realized she did pack a sexy “just in case” outfit, and thank god she did.   


Around five minutes to seven, as Beatrice was slipping her Gianvito Rossi gold and black heels on, she heard her phone ping.  


_ T: JUST GOT HERE. WAITING IN THE LOUNGE WHENEVER YOU ARE READY, BEAUTIFUL. NO RUSH. _

  
Beatrice’s stomach fluttered in excitement as she grabbed her purse and jacket. Doing one last check of her hair and makeup in the mirror by the door, she made sure to take her key card before exiting her room. 

  
The elevator dinged for the ground floor and Beatrice stepped out, her heels clicking lightly against the marble floor. She turned into the lounge area and spotted Tom sitting in a royal purple velvet wing-back chair, his mile-long legs crossed over each other. Beatrice nearly gasped. He was wearing a navy blue suit that looked like he had been poured into it, his lean but muscular thighs pressing tightly against the designer fabric. He wasn’t wearing a tie, and instead had the top button of his crisp, white shirt undone casually, and his thick curls tamed slightly back with some product. He looked like walking sex and Beatrice involuntarily found herself licking her lips.

  
Tom looked over to the lounge entrance and finally spotted Beatrice. He swallowed hard as he took her in. Her smooth, sexy legs were on display in a short, but tasteful black leather skirt that ruffled slightly along the bottom. Her asymmetrical black top fit snug against her curves, with one thick strap running vertically up over her right shoulder, and another thick strap running horizontal off her left shoulder, wrapping around the uppermost part of her arm. It was extremely sexy and chic, showing off lovely glimpses of her delicious peachy skin, but still managed to be tasteful at the same time. Black and gold strappy sandals completed the look, and Tom briefly fantasized about what they would look like resting on his shoulders before he remembered himself and stood up to walk to her.

  
“Wow,” he said breathily, gently wrapping his large hand around her upper arm and leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. “You look absolutely stunning.”

  
She smiled, blushing slightly. She realized, even in her four-inch heels, she still barely came up to his shoulders.

  
“Thanks, you look amazing too.”

  
Tom held out his arm to her.

  
“Ready?”

  
She threaded her arm through his, looking up into sea-blue eyes.

  
“Absolutely.”

*******

They arrived at Per Se a short time later. Tom, ever the gentleman, helped Beatrice out of the cab and escorted her into the restaurant. They were seated in a quiet corner of the dimly lit restaurant, delicate crystal chandeliers throwing off amber-colored light and a large, glass-encased fireplace in the center of the room completed the elegant ambiance. They settled into the cozy upholstered banquette, their knees brushing up against each other with the close proximity. A waiter instantly appeared to take their drink order, Beatrice ordering a Russian River Chardonnay and Tom ordering a 25-year Glenfarclas whiskey.

  
“So, I have to confess I Googled you,” Beatrice said, her face flushing in embarrassment. 

  
“Is that right?” Tom said, his eyes sparkling playfully, turning his body towards her. “And, what did you find out?”

  
“Well, I know you have two sisters, one younger and one older than you,” she said. “You have a double first in Classics from Cambridge, you’ve won an Olivier _ and _ a Golden Globe, and you apparently have a penchant for sweets.”

  
Tom laughed, his eyes crinkling, making him look like a little kid. Beatrice felt her insides go all warm and melty.

  
“All true, thankfully,” he said. “You haven’t looked me up on Tumblr though have you?”

  
“No, why?”

  
Tom chuckled, his cheeks turning pink. “Ah well, umm, there’s a lot of fan fiction and various ‘tributes’ on there that are quite detailed and imaginative, to put it delicately.”

  
Beatrice laughed. “Really?”

  
“Yes, it was quite a revelation when my manager Luke pointed a few out to me. Let’s just say, since then I have never been back.”

  
Beatrice took a sip of her wine, smiling at him. 

  
“Well, don’t worry, I don’t even have Tumblr,” she laughed. “I really mostly use Twitter for posting travel tips and to get suggestions for places from people - sometimes Instagram too for travel pics.”

  
“How did you know you wanted to travel for a living?”

  
Beatrice sat back, moving her hair off her shoulder. She noticed Tom taking in every movement she made, his eyes laser-focused.

  
“Well, my dad was in the military, so I was pretty used to moving around when I was a kid, but when I was in high school I remember falling in love with the Beat writers - Kerouac, Ginsberg - and how they wrote about traveling across the U.S., and it seemed so freeing, the idea of just going wherever the wind took you, not having to answer to anyone but yourself….just packing a bag and going.”

  
She realized she was prattling on when she looked back at Tom and he was smiling at her. 

  
“What I mean is, I guess I’ve just always had a bit of wanderlust,” she said, flushing, taking another sip of her wine.

  
Tom stared at her, moving his hand across the table and silently taking her hand in his, his long, elegant fingers threading through her own smaller digits. Beatrice instantly felt the smooth warmth from his hand spread through her own and travel through the rest of her body.

  
“I admire your passion, Beatrice,” Tom said, smiling as he gave her hand a small squeeze. “It’s not always easy going for the things you want in life, and you have not let anything stop you from doing what you love.”

  
“Well, look at your own career,” she said, Tom noticing the respect coloring her voice. “You don’t get to where you are without a lot of sacrifice.”

  
Tom sat back a bit, letting out a breath with a _ whoosh _. 

  
“That’s true, but I wouldn’t change a thing about it - to me it has been worth it for the most part. I just wish it didn’t affect my relationships so much, though I understand why it does.”

  
“Yeah, it seems like every girl that dates you is grist for the mill.”

  
Tom nodded bitterly. “Yeah, which isn’t fair to them. Listen, I’ve dated some wonderful women and some not so wonderful women, but no matter what they were like they didn’t deserve the treatment the media gave them.”

  
Their waiter reappeared to take their dinner order, with Tom getting the lamb with curry, and Medjool dates, and Beatrice getting the tagliatelle with Australian black truffles. After he left, Tom shifted a little closer to Beatrice, taking a deep breath.

  
“I like you Beatrice,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse. “You’re smart, and honest, and talented, and very, very beautiful.”

  
Beatrice blushed slightly, but kept her eyes on Tom, wondering where he was going with this.

  
“I’ll be a happy man if I only have this day with you, even though I have to confess I would like more. But I also know what my life is like. My career has always come first above everything. I would like that to not be the case someday, but right now it is, and unfortunately, it means that any relationship that I have is going to be open for scrutiny.”

  
Beatrice cut him off. 

  
“Tom, I get it,” she said smiling. “Listen, I’ll be honest - I’m really not in the space right now to have a serious relationship either. I’m focused on my career too and I’m enjoying it. I’m not saying I wouldn’t want to meet ‘my person’ and get married one day, but honestly, it’s not my priority right now.”

  
Tom looked surprised.

  
“Really?”

  
“Yeah,” she said, moving closer and putting her hand on his arm. “I really like you too, Tom, and I hope I get to see you again, but if I don’t, well I’ve enjoyed today. So let’s just enjoy the rest of it with no pressure - just two people who are about to have an incredible dinner.”

  
Tom gave her a brilliant smile. “Just when I think you couldn’t surprise me any more with how amazing you are, Beatrice, you somehow manage to outdo yourself.”

  
“Yeah, I know,” she joked, making Tom laugh.

  
With the tension broken, Tom and Beatrice were able to enjoy their dinner, which was beyond delicious. Their flirtations became more and more overt as the evening went on, and by the time they were ready for dessert, Tom had his arm resting on the top of the banquette, right at Beatrice’s shoulders, her own hand resting lightly on his thigh as they both slowly sipped at their ports. 

  
The waiter brought over the Macaron Trio dessert, along with a selection of house-made chocolates, that looked like heaven on a plate. 

  
Tom grabbed the Blackberry Cassis macaron, bringing it up to Beatrice’s mouth. She took a bite, her eyes locked on to Tom’s, a moan escaping her lips, as the flavor exploded in her mouth. The sound sent a current directly down to Tom’s cock, as he watched her lush pink lips, which were sensuously wrapped around the French delicacy. 

  
He pulled his hand away, a few delicate crumbs dotting Beatrice’s plump lower lip.

  
“Looks like you have a bit of dessert on your lip, little one,” he said, his voice low and rough. 

  
Beatrice’s eyes widened innocently and she went to bring her napkin up to her mouth. In an instant, Tom grabbed her by the wrist firmly, letting out a growl. 

  
“Let’s have a taste, yeah?” he said, his eyes heavy-lidded as he moved down to capture Beatrice’s lips with his own. She let out a whimper as she felt herself melt into his kiss, feeling his warm tongue running along her bottom lip before it gently probed into her mouth, tasting her. He felt incredible against her, his body strong and solid as he held her to him, his arm around her waist, hand splayed on her back. For Beatrice, the kiss seemed to go on forever until they reluctantly broke apart for air.

  
“You taste delicious,” he whispered next to her, his tongue softly running along the soft shell of her ear, making her shiver. 

  
“Tom?” she asked, her voice small, but laced with desire.

  
“Yes, love?” he said, his eyes suddenly dark and stormy.

  
“Can we take dessert back to your room?”

  
He licked his lips. “Absolutely.”

*******

Their little box of sweets sat beside them in the taxi, all but forgotten as their hands roamed rampant in desire, neither of them wanting to miss an inch, as their mouths drank from each other. Though he had only had two drinks, Tom felt woozy, drunk off his need for this incredible woman. His hands ran up her thighs, reaching around and grabbing her ass lustily through her leather skirt. He was thankful that the drive from the restaurant to his hotel was a short one, otherwise he was going to take her right here in this cab, driver be damned. 

  
They finally pulled up to the Ritz, both of them positively buzzing with arousal as they made their way through the oak-paneled lobby. Though he knew he should be careful in such an extremely public place, Tom couldn’t keep his hands off of Beatrice’s luscious, leather-encased ass, palming and squeezing it as they made their way onto the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, they were on each other again, Tom’s mouth ravaging Beatrice’s mouth as she plunged her hands into his soft, thick curls. He groaned against her mouth as her nails lightly scratched his scalp, her breasts pressed against the strong wall of his chest.

  
Tom growled, his mouth devouring the soft expanse of her neck. 

  
“Once I get you into that room, I am not letting you go until you are so sore and spent that you will feel where I’ve been for _ days _,” he said, sucking on her throbbing pulse point emphatically. 

  
“_ Jesus…. _” Beatrice hissed, feeling her arousal pooling in her stomach.

  
Tom suddenly pulled away, holding her by the shoulders, his eyes positively blazing.

  
“Listen, Beatrice,” he said, his voice low and rumbling. “Anything we do tonight I will ask your consent for. I will not hurt or injure you permanently, and anything you object to whether beforehand or in the act of, I will honor your request immediately and will not continue.”

  
Beatrice swallowed hard, blinking up at him, a mixture of fear and need coursing through her veins.

  
“But one thing I will not be is a gentleman,” he said, his eyes all dark want. “I will be rough with you and I will dominate you, but I promise any pain I give you will be abated with pleasure. I only ask that you put your trust in me that I will keep that promise. Do you trust me, Beatrice?”

  
Beatrice nodded slowly, her eyes still wide from his words. 

  
“I do,” she whispered, realizing as the words left her mouth that they were true.

  
The elevator opened onto Tom’s floor, and he took Beatrice’s hand, guiding her down the dimly lit hallway until they reached a door at the end of the hall that said, “Central Park Suite,” on a gold placard. Tom waved his key card in front of the sensor on the door, and hearing the click, pushed the door open, escorting Beatrice in. 

  
The suite was enormous, with a full seating area off the entryway, a large marble bathroom, complete with full shower and two-person whirlpool bathtub, and a dining room with a mahogany dining room table, replete with table settings for at least eight people. The walls were covered in a soft cream-colored, suede-like fabric, and the modern-style lighting cast a warm, romantic glow across the expanse of the suite.

  
Tom gently took Beatrice’s jacket and the dessert box from dinner from her, setting them on the entryway bench. He wordlessly took her hand in his, leading her towards the back of the suite and into the bedroom. 

  
The bedroom itself was luxuriously modern and doused in muted grays, creams, and steel blues. A large king bed sat in the middle, with silk gunmetal-blue throw pillows, and a fluffy white comforter that looked so inviting and plush that Beatrice couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel against her naked skin.

  
Tom took his suit jacket off, laying it neatly across the back of a sumptuous gray lounge chair, and proceeded to roll the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Beatrice bit her lip; the seemingly innocuous act felt almost pornographic with him doing it.

  
“Would you like a drink, darling?” he asked sweetly, coming over to her and running his hands up and down her forearms. 

  
“No, I’m okay thank you,” she said, her voice slightly hitching.

  
He bent over her, one arm wrapping around her waist, the other brushing her hair back. His eyes were soft, but they seemed to be asking questions of her that she wasn’t sure how to answer. His large hand cupped her jaw, pulling her lips to his. Beatrice let out a moan. His lips were so soft, and though they were on the thinner side, they were strong and able to reduce her knees into jelly every time they met her own. 

  
“Take your clothes off,” he said, his voice quiet but leaving little room for argument. Not that Beatrice would at this point. He walked across the room, settling into the gray chair he had put his jacket on, and crossed his legs, looking at Beatrice expectantly.

  
Beatrice didn’t consider herself a shrinking violet when it came to sex. She had her fair share of experiences with men, but by no means considered herself a sultry sexpot. She had confidence in herself and in her sexuality, but she had to confess to herself that her sexual history wasn’t as as prodigious as she wished it was. The most adventurous place she had ever done it was on her kitchen table, and most of the guys she had been with were so eager to do the deed her own orgasm was often relegated to an afterthought.

  
However, she had a feeling that things were going to be different with Tom.

  
She moved her hands quickly to the zipper on the side of her skirt but Tom’s voice stopped her. 

  
“Slowly, little one...I want to take you in,” he growled, his eyes blazing as he rested his elbow on the chair’s armrest, his chin resting on his thumb, his middle finger gently grazing over his upper lip as his index finger rested near his temple.

  
Beatrice took a deep breath. She couldn’t remember ever being this aroused. Every nerve ending in her body felt fit to burst, but she told herself to relax. He wanted to play and she could definitely do that.

  
She bit her lip seductively, locking eyes with him as she moved her hands to the back of her top, her breasts thrusting out slightly as she slowly brought zipper down. She saw Tom taking in each and every movement she made as the top loosened up around her arms and torso. She held the now slackened garment in front of her, running her tongue briefly across her bottom lip as she slowly let it drop, revealing her black strapless lace bra, which lifted her cleavage enticingly. She swore she saw a muscle in Tom’s jaw flex as she did it.

  
Beatrice moved her hands down to her skirt again, bringing the side zipper down leisurely until it released around her hips. She held it to her as she turned, her back now facing Tom. She hooked her thumbs under the waistband, casually bending over at the waist, keeping her legs straight as she pushed it down, instantly revealing a matching black lace thong that put her creamy, ample ass on display. 

  
She heard Tom hiss from his seat, letting out a low “_ fuck _” from under his breath.

  
Beatrice smiled to herself before she turned back around to fact Tom again. He was now sitting with his legs spread, his arms resting on both sides of his chair, his eyes absolutely feral with desire. Even in the dim lighting of the room, she could make out his very prominent erection.

  
“Keep going, little one,” he growled.

  
Beatrice pressed her lips together and reached around the back of her bra, unhooking it slowly as she and Tom continued to basically eye-fuck each other. God, she wanted him so bad her knees were practically knocking together.

  
She let the bra drop, her large, round breasts bouncing slightly as they spilled out. Her rosy, eraser-like nipples already stood at attention, and she saw Tom immediately start to palm his erection through his trousers.

  
“God, you are gorgeous,” he breathed.

  
She gave him a small smile before hooking her fingers into the thin waistband of her thong and slowly pushed it down, revealing her bare pussy. She heard Tom immediately suck in his breath in surprise. She had no problem with hair, and knew a lot of guys even liked having a little landing strip down there, but she liked how sensitive she was when she went completely bare, so she kept it like that.

  
Tom stood up, his mouth slightly open as he walked over to her. She could practically hear her own heart thumping wildly in her chest as she watched him run his eyes over her body. He brought a hand up, gently caressing her cheek at first, then running two fingers down her throat with the lightest of touches. Beatrice shivered as his fingers worked their way slowly down over her clavicle as she felt the warmth of his breath against her skin. He languidly circled one of her nipples with the pad of his finger, feeling them harden even more under his touch.

  
“So sensitive,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

  
He moved toward her, trailing the back of his knuckles down one of her arms as he bent down, gently nibbling her earlobe, his tongue tracing the shell of her ear before kissing down the expanse of her neck. Beatrice let out a soft mewl as she felt two of his long, elegant fingers start to probe and caress at her bare folds, and she felt an instant gush of wetness descend from her at his touch. 

  
“Oh, _ darling _….” Tom groaned against her ear, feeling her soaking against his fingers. “Are these lovely juices because of me?”

  
Beatrice nodded as her head fell back, her eyes closing in pleasure as he continued to explore her bare pussy lips.

  
She immediately felt him stop, his hand pinching her waist sharply. “Answer me, little one,” he said gruffly.

  
Her eyes flew open at his tone of voice. She looked into his eyes and felt a shiver of fear at how stormy and ravenous they suddenly appeared.

  
“I’ll ask you again, my dear,” he said, holding up his hand in front of her, his fingers positively glistening from her wetness. “Is all this gorgeous slick because of me?”

  
“Yes,” she whimpered, desperate for him to take her now, feeling her frustration to touch him starting to grow as he was still wearing his dress shirt and pants.

  
He smiled sinfully at her, putting his fingers to his mouth and sucking her off of them, moaning as he did.

  
“Mmmm….you are delicious, darling.”

  
Tom hands moved to the top of Beatrice’s hair, unclipping the barrette that held part of her hair back from her face. He ran his fingers through the thick, silky locks that fell down against her shoulders, the scent of her lavender shampoo filling his nose. 

  
“There, that’s better,” he cooed, lovingly. “Don’t want that lovely hair to get snagged or pulled. Now, lay down on the bed on your back, heels at the edge, legs open.”

  
Beatrice swallowed, complying quickly, as she crawled up on the huge king-sized bed. Tom let a self-satisfied smile creep over his face. 

_  
Well, well, well, _ he thought. _ Looks like someone likes to be dominated._

  
She placed her heels at the edge of the bed, her knees up, with her ass positioned near the edge as well. The position put her completely on display and she swore she heard Tom positively smack his lips as he took her in. 

  
Tom stroked himself through his pants, trying to keep control. Tonight wasn’t about him, he thought. All he could think of was giving Beatrice as much pleasure as possible, to turn her into a writhing, screaming mess before the night was over with. 

  
He grabbed a large pillow off the bed and set it down on the floor, kneeling before her spread legs, running his hands lovingly up and down her smooth, strong thighs, feeling her slightly shaking underneath his touch.

  
“Oh my, little one,” he breathed, taking her in, spread wide before him. “Such a beautiful pussy. Look at these lovely pink lips swelling up so sweetly for me.”

  
To emphasize his statement, he quickly took one plump lip into his mouth, sucking and worrying it lightly with his teeth like a wolf. Beatrice bit a squeal back as her hips nearly bucked up off the mattress.

  
Tom suddenly clamped a muscled arm over her pelvis, effectively stilling her. 

  
“You will be still while I eat out this delectable little pussy,” he growled. “However, I want to hear every moan and noise you make as those sounds belong to me.”

  
Tom couldn’t hold himself back anymore, diving in with his tongue, flicking and sucking at her sweet little clit as she let out a gasp. Lord, but she tasted like heaven.

  
Beatrice was doing everything she could not to fly off the bed in pleasure, as she felt Tom’s mouth lap at her pussy like he was the conductor and her body was the orchestra. He was coaxing sounds and sensations from her she didn’t even know were possible, but her whole body was positively vibrating in pleasure.

  
She felt a long finger slip between her folds and into her and she had to clench her toes around the edge of the bed to keep from bucking against his hand. 

  
“Oh fuck!”

  
Tom moved her knees up closer to her chest, giving her backside a quick slap as he added a second finger into her.

  
“Language, little one,” he chuckled, as he quickly put his mouth back on her, sucking and flicking at her engorged clit as he pumped and twisted his ridiculously long fingers in and out of her now-dripping pussy. Beatrice was nearly nonsensical with need, feeling the delicious pull starting at the base of her spine that always seemed to signal an impending orgasm. His beard felt sinfully good against the sensitive skin of her thighs, and she couldn’t help but thrust her fingers into his silky curls, scratching his scalp and lightly pulling at the roots. She heard Tom groan, feeling the vibration against her pussy, which sent another bolt of arousal through her.

  
“Little minx likes to play rough, doesn’t she?” Tom grinned evilly up at her from between her legs. “Well, let's see if we can make you scream from my mouth and fingers in your pussy and then I’m going to make you cum around my cock.”

  
Beatrice moaned, his filthy words releasing another rush of arousal from her flushed pussy. Tom lapped and sucked like a man starved, the sounds of his oral ministrations filling the cavernous room with obscene slurping and suction. As he pumped his fingers in and out of her tight hole, he felt her delicate tissues starting to flutter around his digits.

  
“I can feel you’re close, little one,” he said gruffly. “Cum for me.”

  
Beatrice couldn’t even recognize the sounds coming out of her now. She was panting and mewling desperately, her body flushed and moist with perspiration. She looked down her body at the gorgeous man currently devouring her: his arms wrapped around her naked thighs, holding her pussy wide for him, his silky brown waves bobbing up and down like a man possessed. Beatrice suddenly realized something about Tom. Unlike almost all the men she had previously been with, he actually enjoyed going down on her. He wasn’t trying to hurry her to climax, to get it over with so that he could get his own rocks off. She felt him savoring her, seeming to absorb each moan and wail that emanated from her as a badge of honor, groaning in pleasure himself when he knew he had hit a particularly sensitive spot. 

  
Their eyes met and Beatrice felt the pull at the base of her spine snap as Tom twisted his fingers to hit her G-spot and ordered her to cum. And she did - feeling her toes twitch and point hard as she felt the currents of her orgasm explode through her body.

  
“OhmygodfuckTOM!” she cried out in a voice she didn’t even recognize. It was so raw and base in its desperation. 

  
Tom felt her hips buck sharply as he felt a surge of slick emit from her, soaking the sheets below them. His eyes went wide.

  
“Oh, my _ darling _…” he purred, his mouth agape.

  
“Holy shit, did I actually _ squirt _?” Beatrice panted, sitting up on her elbows, her face wide and slightly horrified.

  
Tom licked his lips, a smile spreading over his face. 

  
“Yes, you did my beautiful Beatrice, and it was exquisite,” he groaned lustfully, his fingers playing around in her slick-soaked folds. He brought his finger up to his mouth and sucked, closing his eyes blissfully. 

  
“God, you taste absolutely delicious,” he said, now moving up the bed panther-like towards her, gathering her in his arms and crushing his lips to hers in a searing kiss. He finally pulled away, his eyes soft and probing.

  
“Have you never squirted before little one?” he asked gently.

  
Beatrice shook her head, embarrassed and still slightly euphoric from her climax. “I’ve had orgasms, but I’ve never squirted before - I didn’t think I could.”

  
Tom smiled at her, brushing her damp locks back from her face. “Well, I’m honored it was able to happen with me - you are so beautiful when you cum. You look like a goddess.”

  
Beatrice felt another sudden rush of desire and pulled Tom towards her, her mouth hungrier for him more now than ever. Their tongues danced against each other and Tom brought his hand up to squeeze and palm her breasts, which overfilled his large hands.

  
“God, you have the most amazing tits I have ever seen,” he panted, moving down and taking a rosy nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling as he continued to squeeze fervidly. Beatrice reached down between them, palming his cock through the fabric of his slacks as he moaned into her mouth. He felt absolutely huge in her palm and she was both nervous and excited at the prospect of it being inside her.

  
“Please put it in me, Tom,” she breathed.

  
His eyes went black as he got up on his knees, unbuttoning his shirt. As he took it off, she ran her hands along the strong expanse of him, marveling at the way his muscles moved beneath his smooth, pale skin. He had a spattering of golden brown chest hair and lovely little brownish-pink nipples. Beatrice had to bite back an excited squeal at the occasional freckle that scattered along his torso, shoulders, and arms. He was beautiful.

  
Tom looked down at Beatrice, her luminous green eyes expectant and full of want. He stroked her cheek softly, her eyes closing at his touch, her dark eyelashes fanning against her flushed cheeks. 

  
“Take me out, sweet girl,” he said.

  
Beatrice didn’t need to be told twice. She licked her lips and brought her small hands up to the front of his slacks, looking up at him as she slowly released the zipper. She placed her hand inside and instantly gasped out loud for two reasons: one, Tom apparently did not make it a practice to wear underwear, and two, his God-given “asset” was somehow even larger than she initially thought.

  
Once released, his cock bobbed lightly in front of her face, already engorged and purplish-red in color. She could see a pearly drop of pre-cum emit from the large mushroom-shaped head. Beatrice gawped at the perfect specimen before her, her mouth open slightly in awe. He was at least eight inches long, perfectly thick, with lovely pronounced veins running up the underside. 

  
She instantly took him in her hand, his length hot and solid in her palm, like silk stretched taut over marble. Tom looked down at her through heavily-lidded eyes as her pink tongue darted out, tasting the clear, silky liquid on the head of his cock. A growl let loose from deep in his chest as she pumped gently up and down the length of him. He watched as she licked up the underside along his prominent vein, all the way up to the frenulum, groaning as his cock twitched slightly. She moved her head sideways, taking his length into her mouth like a harmonica and began moving up and down the length, her mouth tight around his thickness as her tongue massaged the underside of his cock in long, swooping motions.

  
“Fuck, little one….” he hissed through clenched teeth, his hand now resting gently on her head, giving her hair the occasional stroke as she moved her mouth back up to the tip. She suddenly took her mouth off of him and Tom let out a groan of disappointment, looking down at her questioningly.

  
“May I suck your beautiful cock?” Beatrice asked, her voice soft and sweet as she looked up at him with wide, jade-colored eyes.

_  
Bloody hell, I’ve hit the jackpot _, Tom thought as he tilted her chin up with his finger, smiling down at her lovingly.

  
“Of course you may, little one.”

  
She gave him a sultry little smile before wrapping her full pink lips around him. He felt wonderfully heavy and full in her mouth. Beatrice had usually enjoyed going down on her partners, loving the power and control she had over them. She hadn’t had any complaints either, though she had never had someone as big as Tom and was not sure she could take his full length. 

  
She slowly moved her mouth up and down, pulling off briefly as she spat on his cock and worked her hand over the breadth of him, lathering him up. She added her mouth again, taking him deep down her throat, listening to his groans and _ yes’s _ to help gauge what he particularly liked. 

  
Tom, for his part, was in heaven. He had partners in the past that were definitely enthusiastic in the blow-job department, and for the most part, they were pretty good, but so far, this lovely little thing below him was blowing them all out of the water (literally). He tried not to think of how she had become _ so _ good at this, and honestly, at this moment he didn’t care. It was all he could to try and keep control so that he didn’t blow before he was inside of her pussy.

  
It wasn’t until he felt her nose hit his abdomen that he opened his eyes in shock. He looked down, stunned to see she had completely taken his length down her throat. 

  
“Fucking hell, love!” he said, unable to keep the awe out of his voice.

  
She winked at him, finally bringing herself off of his length with an obscene pop. 

  
“Lay down on your back now,” Tom growled. “I need to be inside you.”

  
Beatrice scrabbled up towards the head of the bed, laying down with her head on the plush pillows. Tom stood off of the bed, pushing his already lowered pants completely down and kicking them away with his feet. Beatrice was now able to see him in all of his glory. She sighed in admiration. He was ridiculously gorgeous and built like a Greek statue - sculpted, lean, and strong. His broad shoulders v-eed down to a solid chest and chiseled abdominals. His swollen cock bobbed impressively, nearly reaching his belly button even while he was standing, and she was finally able to take in those endless legs packed with sinewy muscle, the product of a rigorous daily running regimen. 

_  
Damn, I am one lucky girl _, she thought.

  
Tom reached down to fish out a condom from his pants, ripping the package open. Beatrice stopped him. 

  
“Would it be okay if we didn’t?” she asked. “I’m on birth control and I just got tested last month and I’m totally clean. I really want to feel you cum inside me.”

  
Tom smiled broadly at her. “Of course, love. I’m clean too, I just wanted to be safe just in case. I trust you, Beatrice and I hope you trust me too. You probably don’t believe me, but I don’t do stuff like this often.”

  
“I do trust you and I do believe you.”

  
He stalked over to her, crawling up onto the bed and pulling her to him, his arms wrapping around her. He ravaged her lips, pulling her tight against his insistent erection as Beatrice’s arms wrapped around his neck, her large breasts mashed against the wall of his chest. Tom moaned at the feel of her delicious soft breasts against him, his hand moving down and grabbing a handful of her plush bottom as they kissed passionately. He loved the way she felt under him, all curves and softness and femininity. If there was one thing he did not like in his women was angles and hardness. Beatrice was a classical painting come to life and he was already addicted to the feel of her.

  
Tom moved himself between her legs, spreading her wide for him. He kissed down her neck, eventually taking one of her sweet, rosy nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking at it as he palmed the globe of her breast in his palm. Beatrice felt his tongue flick against her hardened nub, scraping it lightly with his teeth, the sensations making her buck against him eagerly. Tom was definitely a breast man, and it felt like he couldn’t get enough of hers, massaging, squeezing, and pressing his face into her more-than-ample assets.

  
“Fuck me, Tom,” she groaned, reaching her breaking point.

  
“With pleasure, my lovely girl,” he said silkily. “Prop yourself up on your elbows - I want you to watch me take you.”

  
Beatrice adjusted herself up on her elbows with the help of the mountain of white pillows on their bed. She looked down at her legs, now spread obscenely wide, as Tom reared back on his heels, his tumescent member in hand and probing at her entrance.

  
“Look at this lovely, pink pussy,” he admired. “All flushed and swollen - ready to take me.”

  
Tom looked at Beatrice’s beautiful face, her breath coming out faster now in anticipation, her cheeks blooming pink from tonight’s activities so far. She was looking down at where his tip of his cock was gently resting at her opening, her mouth slightly open, biting at her lip expectantly. 

  
He ran the swollen tip around her folds, making himself slick with her wetness before pushing into her with a hiss. 

  
“OHMYGODDDD….” Beatrice moaned wantonly, as she watched his huge cock stretch her pussy wide. He felt absolutely enormous and he was maybe only two inches inside of her. 

  
“Fuck you are soooo tight,” Tom groaned, breaking out in a sweat. It was taking every ounce of his willpower not to plunge his full length into her immediately, but she was so blissfully tight and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

  
“Are you okay, little one?”

  
Beatrice’s nodded, breathing heavily. “I’m okay, just go slow,” she chuckled ruefully. “You are definitely the biggest I’ve ever had.”

  
Tom laughed softly. “Don’t worry my beautiful girl...let’s see if we can relax you a little bit so you can fully take my cock into that snug little pussy.”

  
He reached down between them and, using his thumb, starting softly strumming her stiff clit. As he did, he felt the walls of her begin to flutter and relax - her arousal flowing again making his passage easier. He continued to slowly push into her, the heat and squeeze of her around him testing every ounce of his self-control.

  
Beatrice gasped, her mouth wide, eyes still fixated on the lewd sight of his cock sliding into her entrance, stretching her open. His stimulation on her clit only served to hurdle her even closer to another orgasm as she finally felt him hit against her. She felt wonderfully full, even though there was still about an inch or two of him still outside of her. 

  
“God, Beatrice, you feel amazing wrapped around me,” Tom groaned, as he pulled her down slightly on the bed, hoisting her legs up as he wrapped his arms underneath her knees and starting to slowly pump in and out of her. 

  
“NHHGGG….” Beatrice moaned, as she felt his hips starting to snap against her.

  
“God,” panted Tom, his eyes black with ecstasy as he thrusted above her. “I feel like I’m being pulled inside you.”

  
Beatrice could feel every vein and ridge of his cock rubbing against her sensitive tissues, watching as Tom reached down, bracketing his cock with his fingers, feeling her pussy lips stretched tight against him. The view was absolutely pornographic and it spurred Beatrice’s libido on.

  
“Fuck, Tom...take me from behind,” she grunted.

  
Without a word, Tom lifted her up, still buried deep in her pussy and turned her over onto her knees, lifting her hips up so that her round ass was up in the air. Beatrice felt the mood in the room suddenly change as Tom took up her hair in his hand, wrapping it around his fist. Her head was forced up as she felt him pound into her now-weeping passage, the sound of his balls slapping against her ass filling the room. 

  
“Look at these beautifully swollen pussy lips taking my cock so well,” Tom hummed appreciatively, as he brought his hand down with a loud “smack” on one ample asscheek. Beatrice gasped, the stinging pain amplifying her arousal.

  
“More!” she moaned, as Tom released her hair, letting her fall onto her forearms on the plush bedding. 

  
“Ehehehe...my little one likes it rough, doesn’t she?” He said playfully. “Do you need to be punished, my beautiful filthy girl?”

  
“Yes, PLEASE!”

  
“Does my dirty girl need to be corrected by the man who’s owning her body right now?”

  
Beatrice moaned, too far gone to form words anymore.

  
Tom’s hand came singing down on her ass hard, making it jiggle enticingly as he continued to thrust into her. 

  
“You will use your words, little one!”

  
Beatrice’s eyes shot open, the slap feeling like fire spreading across her bottom.

  
“Yes, yes! Please spank my ass daddy - I need you to punish me!”

  
Tom chuckled darkly, a thrill running through his body at the discovery of this side of Beatrice. God, but she was perfect. 

  
He kept a firm hold on her waist with one hand as he brought his hand down again, alternating stinging slaps on her cheeks, watching his large hand print bloom red against the plush globes of her ass. Fuck, he really wanted a picture of her crimson ass for his own personal use later. 

  
He slowed briefly to admire the sight of his cock buried between those rosy cheeks, not expecting Beatrice to do what she did next. Without prompt, she proceed to start moving herself up and down on his shaft eagerly, bouncing on his cock as he stayed still, his mouth slightly open in utter surprise. The sight of her round, red ass rippling erotically with every slap against his hips, nearly made him cum right then and there. She rolled and rotated her hips expertly, making his cock hit sweet spots that made his toes curl. How the hell did she know how to do these things?!

  
“Cor’ love, you are gonna kill me,” he groaned, his head falling back.

  
Beatrice suppressed a small smile until her pleasure once again overwhelmed her and she let out a loud moan, which filled the cavernous bedroom.

  
“Are you gonna cum soon little one?”

  
“Yes, daddy!”

  
Tom quickly pulled out of her, and Beatrice mewled longingly. He flipped her back over on her back and plunged back into her without warning. Beatrice let out a shriek of pleasure.

  
“Then I want to see that beautiful face as you cum around my cock,” he growled, pumping in and out of her, the base of his thick member brushing against her sensitive clit each time he bottomed out. 

  
Beatrice wrapped her legs around his waist, her ankles hooking around each other at the back of him. The new angle moved her hips up and amplified every stroke and brush of his cock against her clit. He felt her tissues begin to ripple around him as her nails scratched up his back, making him groan.

  
“Fuck, Tom, I’m gonna cum!” 

  
“Then cum on my cock sweet girl,” he gasped, his face buried in the curve of her neck.

  
Beatrice felt the base of her spine explode and every muscle clench as her orgasm rolled through her. She bit down on Tom’s shoulder to keep from screaming as her pussy contracted hard around him, and she felt his thrusts become more urgent and sporadic as he neared his end as well. 

  
“Shit, I’m cumming!” he panted, his voice suddenly high and desperate as Beatrice felt him explode, ropes of hot cum spurting deep inside her cervix as he bit down hard against her neck, making her cry out in both pain and pleasure. Tom held her tight against him as his hips continued shuttering against her, making sure she took every last drop of his cum inside her. 

  
Still keeping his now softening cock inside her, he rolled her on top of his chest as they both breathed heavily, blissed-out on their intense orgasms.

  
Beatrice looked up at him from his chest, a goofy smile on her face. He smiled lovingly back at her, brushing her soft, slightly sweaty hair away from her face.

  
“Are you okay, my sweet girl?”

  
She giggled, her eyes soft and dreamy with euphoria. 

  
“Better than okay,” she said, sighing.

  
“Good,” he said, kissing her forehead as she rested her chin against his chest, her small fingers lightly playing with his sparse chest hair. “I must say you are full of surprises, my naughty Bea - is it okay if I call you that?”

  
She looked up at him again, a soft smile on her face. “Yeah, it’s okay - not many people call me Bea anymore. My mom was really the only one who did.”

  
He brought her hand up to his lips, gently kissing it. “I wasn’t too rough with you, was I love?”

  
Beatrice bit her lip shyly, her cheeks flushing red. “No, I liked it,” she confessed.

  
Tom growled, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, as his hands stroked down her back. He gently pulled back after a minute.

  
“Are you thirsty, love?” he asked.

  
“Parched.”

  
He laughed and kissed her nose. “Be right back.”

  
She watched as he swung his long legs over the side of the bed, strolling naked into the other room. For such a lean, tall guy, Beatrice was surprised how nice his ass was - muscular but lovely and round. She gasped a little when she saw the scratch marks she had made down his back, feeling slightly bad about how carried away she got. She couldn’t help it though - this guy could make a fortune teaching classes on how to pleasure women.

  
He came back into the room, carrying two bottles of water and the white dessert box from their dinner. Beatrice could see the strong muscles in his thighs and legs move and flex with each step and she was impressed to see his cock was half-hard again already. He wiggled his eyebrows at her seductively and she giggled, sitting up against the cool, white pillows propped up against the tufted headboard.

  
Tom handed her a bottle of water as he slipped back under the covers, settling close to her and putting his arm around her shoulders. Beatrice cracked open the water, taking a long, gulping drink as Tom brought the small box between them and setting his own water down by his bedside table. 

  
His eyes lit up as he opened the box up, pulling out a beautiful, glossy, dark chocolate truffle. Bea rested her head on his shoulder, chuckling as he took a bite of it, a beatific smile spreading across his face, making his eyes crinkle up at the corners. 

  
“You really do love your sweets,” she laughed, setting her water off to the side of the bed.

  
Tom grinned. “I’ve always had a sweet tooth,” he said. “My mum said when she was pregnant with me, she craved sweets all the time and she doesn’t even like them.”

  
He brought the rest of the truffle up to her lips, a soft smile on his face as he watched her lips take it from his fingertips. He licked his fingers quickly, still watching her face intently.

  
“Mmmm….passion fruit. I love passion fruit.”

  
Tom leaned over quickly, taking Beatrice by surprise as he kissed her, his lips strong but gentle against hers. She let out a little pleasured sound, bringing her hand up and into those lovely, silky auburn curls she loved so much. After a long couple of seconds, she finally pulled away, smiling up at him.

  
“What was that for?”

  
“I told you - I’ve always had a sweet tooth.”

  
They kissed and ate some more, and in-between bites and tender caresses, they talked and laughed. Tom couldn’t remember the last time he felt so immediately comfortable and relaxed with someone. He had always been afraid of the word “comfortable” with regard to women, as he had always felt it carried the connotation of “boring” along with it. But Beatrice was anything but boring. Quite the contrary. She was exciting, sweet, daring, passionate, and intelligent. She had a way about her that made it easy for him to let down his guard, and he found himself wanting to tell her everything about himself. And he definitely wanted to know everything about her. 

  
When dessert was gone, Tom took her again, this time in slow, tender strokes and breathy moans. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her - her sweet mewls when he hit a sensitive spot, the way her lush curves pressed against his skin, the way her clear, jade-colored eyes seemed to pour into his own, conveying all her desire and passion. When they finally came together for the last time in those early morning hours, they whispered their pleasure, holding fast against each other.

  
“Oh, Tom...Tom.”

  
“My beautiful Bea.”


	3. Cruising Altitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The NYC adventures (and smut) continue...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, pics for places/people/outfits for this chapter may be found at my Flickr page: https://www.flickr.com/photos/184448556@N07/48735290232/in/dateposted-public/
> 
> **Note: Fair warning for this chapter...for those who are triggered by T-Swift, she is mentioned in this chapter, but does not actually appear, so....yeah.

Beatrice’s eyes slowly opened, the soft morning light peeking through the hotel room curtains. She tried to reach for her phone on the bedside table, but found she was immobilized by some sort of tall, sexy koala bear wrapped around her form. She chuckled as he let out a grunt of aversion at her attempt to move away, his long arms wrapping even tighter around her naked breasts and waist, pulling her back to his equally naked body. She could feel his impressive morning erection pressing against her backside, as he started kissing her neck, making her shiver in pleasure. 

  
“Good morning, little one.”

  
Beatrice sighed happily, turning around to face him. Somehow after a night of lovemaking and very little sleep, he still managed to look sexier than ever. His coppery curls were disheveled artfully around his forehead and his sleepy eyes were a watery shade of cornflower blue. 

  
“Good morning,” she said, brushing back a few errant curls from around his eyes.

  
“Did you sleep okay?

  
“Very well, thank you.”

  
“When is your meeting?” he asked, his fingers gently tracing down her neck and drifting down to circle softly around one rapidly hardening nipple.

  
“Ummm...eleven,” she responded, gasping lightly at his touch. “And I still need to go back to my hotel to shower and change.”

  
He pulled her close to him, her breasts now pressed against his muscled chest. Beatrice could feel his now-hard cock pressing against her center, and though she felt slightly sore after their activities last night, she couldn’t deny she could feel that familiar arousal pooling in her nether regions again, seeking release.

  
“Well, how about we tick one of those boxes off right now and you come share my shower with me?”

  
A few minutes later, they were both standing in his enormous shower, enjoying the warm spray as their hands sought each other again, exploring and kissing as they washed the remnants of their nocturnal activities from their bodies. Tom’s lips followed the rivlets of water that snaked down Beatrice’s body, kissing down her smooth neck, his tongue drinking from the dip of her clavicle, going down until he grasped her erect nipple between his lips. Beatrice moaned, her hands clutching in his wet locks to hold him closer as the water pounded down on them. Tom swiftly lifted Beatrice up, her legs instantly wrapping around his lean waist as he positioned her entrance against the leaking head of his cock. With one fluid thrust, he buried himself deep inside of her as she wailed in pleasure.

  
“God! So wet and ready for me, sweet girl,” Tom gasped as he started to snap his hips, her back pressed against the black marble wall, her arms wrapped around his neck.

  
Beatrice could feel the rub of the wiry hairs at the base of his cock against her clit as his thick cock breached her sore tunnel over and over, creating a delicious friction that set her whole body aflame with desire.

  
She could feel his balls slapping against her swollen pussy as she held onto him for dear life, her orgasm building with every pump of his hips.

  
“Are you gonna cum for me, little one?” he grunted, his jaw set, his eyes intense as they looked right into Beatrice’s.

  
She nodded, her beautiful sea-green eyes stared into Tom’s, pupils wide, her plump lower lip trembling in desire. Tom loved that she couldn’t hide her expressions from him - she let every emotion show on her face and it was beautiful.

  
Tom increased his pace, lifting one of her legs up higher to change the angle, which almost immediately pushed Beatrice over the edge.

  
“Ohmygod yes Toommm - fuck!”

  
Tom felt her velvet walls flutter and constrict around him, milking his cock for all it’s worth and a moment later he came with a roar, burying his face into her shoulder as he spurted deep inside of her clenching pussy. When he finally pulled out after what seemed like forever, a few small ropes were still pulsing out of the head of his twitching cock.

  
He gently sat her down on the marble shower bench, smiling at her boneless body and slightly unfocused eyes. His eyes flicked to the apex of her open thighs, and he quickly went to his knees, pushing her legs further apart. He licked his lips, his gaze predatory as he pushed open her puffy lower lips, watching his white cum seep out of her flushed pussy.

  
“So gorgeous,” he purred, inserting a long finger slowly to coax out more of his cum from her. “You have the loveliest kitty, my darling.”

  
Beatrice blushed, turning her head away shyly, until she felt Tom tenderly bring her face back to his. 

  
“There is no need to be shy or embarrassed my little one,” he said, his eyes warm and gentle, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “You are exquisite.”

  
They both finished up in the shower and Tom headed back out into the bedroom while Beatrice made use of the hotel’s provided hair-dryer. She grabbed one of the plush white robes from behind the bathroom door and walked back into the bedroom. She didn’t see Tom, but she could hear him speaking to someone at the door and a minute later, heard it close. 

  
She grabbed her clothes from last night and put them back on. It would be pretty obvious to anyone who saw her she was doing the “walk of shame,” but she couldn’t care less. It was the best sex she had ever had and she hoped to go back for seconds (well, technically fourths) tonight. 

  
Grabbing her phone she looked at the time and realized she would be cutting things close due to their morning sexy shower time. She collected her purse from a side table and headed out into the living room. Tom was sitting on the couch looking extremely delicious in his own white robe, his drying curls rumpled in a perfect fusion of boyish innocence and wanton sex god. Beatrice involuntarily squeezed her thighs together when she saw he was also wearing his black framed eyeglasses. Damn, but those glasses did something to her.

  
On the table in front of him were multiple plates and platters, with enough breakfast food covering them to feed a small army. Tom had a pot of tea in front of him and there was a silver coffee carafe as well. His eyes lit up when he saw her. 

  
“Want some breakfast, love? I didn’t know what you’d like so I got a couple of different things - help yourself.”

  
Beatrice fidgeted back and forth, eyeing the food. She was already running behind but she didn’t want to be rude to Tom. 

  
“Thank you so much but I really can’t,” she said apologetically. “I need to get back to my hotel and change before my meeting.”

  
She saw Tom’s face fall slightly, but he quickly recovered, picking up the coffee carafe and grinning as he moved it enticingly towards her.

  
“At least have some coffee Bea, I can see you eyeing it.”

  
She laughed and sat down in a chair across from him as he proceeded to pour a cup for her. She took a long sip, already feeling restored by the hot and robust beverage as she watched Tom tuck ravenously into a perfect looking egg-white omelette packed with veggies. Damn, he even made eating look sexy.

  
Tom took a sip of his tea, looking up over the rim at her. 

  
“Are you free tonight? I’d really like to see you again.”

  
Beatrice smiled, taking another sip of her coffee before clasping the cup in her lap.

  
“I’d really like to see you again too Tom,” she said, blushing slightly. “In fact, I was hoping I could take you out this time - maybe show you my favorite hidden New York spots?”

  
Tom grinned mischievously.

  
“Well, now I’m definitely intrigued as I’ve already seen so many of your _ hidden _ spots,” he said, taking a pronounced bite of his wheat toast at the word “hidden.”

  
Beatrice pressed her lips together, shaking her head as she tried to suppress a laugh. Tom took mercy on her. 

  
“Of course I’d love to darling,” he said sweetly, his blue-gray eyes sparkling warmly. “As the travel expert, I’d be happy to put myself in your hands, no pun intended.”

  
Bea had to laugh at that one. 

  
“Okay, Prince Charming,” she said wryly, taking a last sip of her coffee before standing up. “I’ll text you later and see what might be a good time to meet up.”

  
She turned to grab her purse and jacket, making her way to the front door. When she turned back around, Tom was in front of her, looking into her eyes. He looked so cuddly and inviting in his fluffy robe and bed head that she had to fight the urge to take him back under the covers. Suddenly, she felt something hard poke against her hip. 

  
“Is that a banana in your robe, Mr. Hiddleston, or are you just happy to see me?”

  
Without batting an eyelash, Tom raised his hand up, a banana firmly clutched in it. Beatrice laughed. 

  
“I thought you could take it for breakfast,” he said handing it to her. 

  
“Thank you, that’s very sweet,” she said, giggling, taking the banana from him and putting it in her purse. “And thanks again for last night Tom, I had an incredible time.”

  
“So did I darling,” Tom growled, as he wrapped his arms around her waist and brought his lips to hers in an ardent kiss. Beatrice felt herself melt against him, her brain immediately going fuzzy as he plundered her mouth. He tasted like milk and English Breakfast tea and it was heavenly.

  
When they finally parted, it took Beatrice a second to find her voice.

  
“See you tonight, Tom.”

  
“Definitely, little one,” he said, kissing her and leaving her with one last lusty grab of her ass as she practically skipped out the door.

  
******

Tom sat in a small conference room later on that day, along with his manager Luke. They had just finished a meeting between their London producer for Betrayal and reps from the Bernard B. Jacobs Theatre in New York to discuss how they could bring the production to Broadway. The meeting had gone well, and everything was progressing towards bringing over the production, along with Charlie, Zawe, and Tom, of course. Tom was incredibly excited about this now very-real possibility, as he had dreamed of being in a Broadway production ever since he was a student at RADA. 

  
“The car is coming to come pick us up in about 20 minutes to take us over to the AV Club offices for the interview,” Luke said, looking up at Tom from his phone.

  
Just then, Tom heard a ping from his own phone and saw a text notification from Beatrice.

** _B: DO YOU DANCE?_ **

  
Tom smiled down at the screen and opened up his keyboard.

** _T: BOY, YOU REALLY DON’T KNOW  
ME AT ALL DO YOU, LOL? _ **

  
“Tom, did you hear me?”

  
“Hmm?” Tom said, distracted. _ Ping! _

  
** _B: WELL, I KNOW ENOUGH. LIKE THE FACT THAT YOU  
MAKE THE SEXIEST LITTLE SOUNDS WHEN I KISS  
THE FRECKLES ON YOUR NECK. ;)_ **

  
Tom suppressed a grin, feeling his cheeks heat up.

  
“Tom!”

  
He finally looked up and saw Luke making a face like, _ what the hell is with you? _

  
“Sorry, man - yes, 20 minutes.”

  
“Who are you texting? You are in another world right now.”

  
Tom cleared his throat casually. “No one.”

  
Luke raised an eyebrow at him. “Is it the same no one that you were with last night?”

  
“How do you know I was with anyone?”

  
Luke leaned his elbows on the table in front of them. “Tom, I’m your manager - there’s very little that I don’t find out about in regards to you.”

  
Tom glared at him for a minute before turning his attention back to his phone. “She’s someone I met on the plane over here - a travel writer. We just hung out last night that’s all. She’s only in town for a few days.”

  
** _T: YES, I DEFINITELY DO LIKE THAT AND I  
DEFINITELY LIKE TO DANCE. DOES THIS HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH OUR PLANS TONIGHT?_ **

  
“Hung out, huh?” said Luke, sitting back in his chair. “Somehow I doubt you guys were playing Scrabble all night the way you were all over each other in the hotel lobby.”

  
Tom looked up sternly. _ Fuck _. He knew he should have been more careful with the PDA. But the way that Beatrice’s delectable ass looked in that leather skirt, Luke was lucky he hadn’t ripped her clothes off and taken her right there by the check-in desk.

  
Luke saw Tom’s expression and put his hands up playfully in defense. “Listen, Tom - I don’t care what you do with your love life. Actually, that’s not true since I’m the one that invariably has to deal with it, but what I mean is that I just want you to be happy, so if you found someone you really like, I think that’s great.” 

** _B: MAYBE - JUST TO BE SAFE, WEAR SOME COMFORTABLE SHOES._ **

  
Tom rubbed his beard, exasperated. “Luke, we’re not in a relationship - like I said, I just met her yesterday and she’s only here for a few days, just like me. We’re just having fun and then we’ll likely never see each other again. She knows I’m not in a good place for anything serious and she’s the same way because of her job. It feels ridiculous talking about this when there’s nothing to talk about - she’s not bloody Taylor!”

  
There was a quiet pause from both of them after those words. Finally, Luke sighed and sat forward.

  
“No one here is talking about Taylor except for you, Tom,” he said calmly. “And it’s been three years - three years since you’ve had someone in your life that you care about, three years since you’ve had someone that’s made you smile for no reason, three years since you’ve had someone you could be your true self around. If this is just a fling, that’s completely fine - goodness knows, you’ve had a few since Taylor. But, if this has the possibility to become more than a fling, then I hope you can let down the wall you’ve built around yourself since Taylor and let her in. You deserve to be happy, Tom.”

  
Tom set his jaw, adjusting himself so he sat up more imposingly in his chair. After a minute, he finally spoke.

  
“We’re just hanging out, Luke - it’s nothing.”

  
** _T: WILL DO.  
I’LL SEE YOU TONIGHT, GORGEOUS.  
  
_ **

******

Beatrice pulled up to Tom’s hotel later that evening, her body positively humming with excitement about the night she had planned. He was already waiting outside, looking devastatingly handsome in a dark charcoal gray suit, white button up shirt with no tie, the first two buttons casually undone so that the beginnings of his chest hair peeked out from the top.

  
The cab stopped in front of him, and Beatrice rolled her window down to get his attention. 

  
“You looking for a date, mister?” she teased, watching as his head snapped towards her in confusion. When he saw her in the cab, he chuckled, shaking his head as he walked over to her. 

  
“Well, your offer is pretty tempting, but I already have plans with a very sexy young lady with lovely green eyes.”

  
Beatrice smiled. “Well, guess I got here just in time,” she said playfully, opening up the door for him and then sliding over to the other side as he folded his tall frame into the seat beside her. As he closed the door behind him, he leaned over and gave Beatrice a soft kiss on the cheek. She could smell the spicy scent of his cologne and nearly groaned out loud. _ Fuck, he smelled incredible _.

  
“You look beautiful,” he murmured, taking in her sleeveless periwinkle silk dress that draped enticingly over her curves. The neckline was high, like a halter-top, so that it covered her front completely, but the delicate silk did nothing to hide those gorgeous breasts, and Tom knew she had to be wearing a very thin bra, as to not show obviously through the delicate fabric. He wished she wasn’t wearing one at all, but they were going out in public and he knew those breasts in that dress with nothing between them would definitely border on indecent.

  
“Thanks, you look great too,” she said. “So, are you ready for me to take you around to my New York?”

  
Tom smiled. “Absolutely! I’ve never been able to be a proper tourist here - every time I’ve visited New York it’s always been for work stuff, so it’s all meetings, photo shoots, and interviews. I never really get to see the city.”

  
“Well you will tonight. Are you hungry?”

  
“Famished.”

  
“Good, because I’m going to take you to one of the best restaurants in the city.”

  
They settled into the seat and Tom put his arm around Beatrice’s shoulder, looking down to admire her shapely legs on display. She was wearing a killer pair of nude heels that made her legs appear longer than they actually were, and Tom couldn’t help but softly stroke her thigh over her dress. Beatrice looked down, watching him stroke her leg, admiring his beautiful large hands and those wonderfully long fingers that were capable of rendering her into a quivering mess.

  
Tom seemed to sense what she was thinking, because he slowly began moving his hand under the material of her dress, his fingertips leaving warm trails against the sensitive skin of her thighs. Beatrice’s breathing hitched as his hand reached the thin lace of her thong, his finger stroking lightly over her covered mound. 

  
“Are you my good girl?” he whispered into her ear, gently kissing the tender spot below her lobe. 

  
“Yes….” she hissed, as his finger pushed aside the fabric and started caressing her folds.

  
“Oh MY,” he purred. “My little one is positively dripping.”

  
Beatrice moaned slightly.

  
Tom chuckled evilly. “Well now, we can’t have you sitting in wet panties all night can we, darling?”

  
“Huh?” Beatrice looked at him, confused. 

  
“Take them off,” he whispered, his breath warm against the side of her neck.

  
Beatrice bit her lower lip, glancing quickly at the driver and then back to Tom’s darkened sapphire eyes. She reached up under her dress, quickly hitching her thumbs under the thin waistband and slightly raising her bottom, still keeping her eyes on the driver, who seemed to be oblivious. She moved the panties down as she lowered herself again on the seat, silently slipping them the rest of the way off her legs. Tom took them from her, bringing them up to his face and inhaling deeply. 

  
“Mmmmm….you smell divine, little one,” he said, shoving the panties into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Think I’ll keep these as a little memento of you.”

  
His lips found hers as he pulled her against him, their tongues dancing sensuously against each other as Beatrice wrapped her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his silky curls. His hand once again moved under her dress, his large hand moving purposefully up her silken thigh. He broke their kiss, both of them breathing heavily, their foreheads resting against each other. He pressed kisses to the soft skin of her throat before looking into her eyes, his gaze positively smoldering.

  
“Are you going to let me play, little one?”

  
Beatrice found herself nodding, biting her lip hungrily, her desire smashing any sense of public propriety at the moment. She just wanted him any way she could get him.

  
“Yes,” she sighed.

  
“Yes, what, my little Bea?”

  
She met his gaze, his pupils blown black with lust. 

  
“Yes, daddy,” she whispered, and opened up her legs to him.

  
“My lovely, sweet Bea,” he groaned, and claimed her mouth again, his fingers now moving to the apex of her thighs, his elongated fingers now playing with her swollen, dripping lips. She let out an involuntary moan, then quickly looked at the driver, slightly panicked he had heard. He didn’t let on if he noticed them at all.

  
Tom chuckled softly. “Can you be quiet for me, love? Wouldn’t want an audience….or would you?”

  
Beatrice bit back a groan as he gently slipped a finger inside her wet heat.

  
“Well, well,” he purred. “I think I’ve discovered a kink of yours, little one.”

  
He pumped his finger in and out, his thumb finding her engorged clit as he started strumming it in concert with his finger. Beatrice pressed her lips together, her hips starting to buck against his movement.

  
“Do you like the idea of him seeing us, sweet girl?” he said huskily into her ear as he added a second finger, increasing the speed.

  
“Oh god,” she whispered through clenched teeth.

  
“Do you like the idea of him looking back here, seeing your beautiful flushed pussy on display, dripping wet as my fingers fuck you? Seeing what a wanton, dirty little girl you are, getting finger fucked in a taxi?”

  
“ _ Yessssss…. _” she moaned. God, what his words did to her, and in that voice! Like honey spilled over velvet, the perfect mixture of eloquence and debauchery. She had never felt this way before - so completely brazen and uninhibited - with anyone. But even though they had only known each other for all of two days, Beatrice trusted Tom. She couldn’t explain it, but that side of him that was so dominating and sexual was always tempered by the other side of him that was sweet, caring, and unfailing gentle. And he didn’t seem to take that trust she gave him for granted, always ensuring her pleasure and comfort before his own. It strangely made her feel free. She would definitely miss him once she left New York, but she was determined to make the most of their time while they still could.

  
“Fuck, you look so delicious like this Bea - yes, that’s it my darling, let him see how incredible you are,” he growled, as she actively started to cant her hips, fucking his fingers as he continued to rub her clit in circles. She was getting so close.

  
“He’s watching you Bea - look at him,” Tom whispered, breathing hard. Beatrice’s eyes flicked up and saw the driver was indeed watching them, and she felt a wave of both embarrassment and arousal course through her, surging her on. She was too far gone to stop now.

  
“I want you to look at him when you cum, I want him to see what a goddess looks like.”

  
With that he suddenly curled his fingers inside of her, his other hand slapping at her clit as the damn inside her broke. She came loudly as her pussy clenched around Toms fingers, her eyes still locked with the driver’s, who’s own eyes went wide as he watched her orgasm. She fell back against the seat, blissed-out on endorphins as Tom quickly covered her legs back up and took her gently into his arms. 

  
“My gorgeous girl,” he smiled at her, kissing her reverently on her temple. “Thank you. You were exquisite.”

  
Beatrice hummed happily, sated and now even hungrier than ever for dinner as Tom held her close for the rest of the ride.

  
They finally made it to the Village and pulled up to her favorite pizza joint, Joe’s Pizza. They both quickly got out of the cab, but not before Beatrice saw Tom give the cab driver an extremely generous tip. He joined her on the sidewalk, looking up at the modest storefront, which looked as though it had been around since the 1940’s, complete with “Joe’s Pizza” spelled out above it with individual light bulbs.

  
Beatrice smiled, looking back at Tom. “Well, this is it - my favorite meal in New York City.”

  
Tom grinned, taking in a deep breath. “God, it already smells incredible and we’re not even inside yet.”

  
Beatrice laughed and grabbed his hand, pulling him through the door. Inside, the place was packed with a variety of Saturday night diners: families, young couples, elderly regulars, and neighborhood locals. The walls were covered in black and white photos of the original opening back in 1947, pics of famous celebrities who had eaten there in the past, including notorious gangster Frank Costello, and portraits of several generations of the family that still owned the establishment.

  
“The same family has kept this place going ever since the original owner, Joe Alfonsi opened this place back in the forties,” Beatrice said, pulling Tom through the crowd. “They had a fire here back in 1965, but thankfully the bulk of the original structure survived and they were able to rebuild it. They still use most of the original recipes they used back when they first opened too.”

  
Tom smiled at her as he kept her flush against him as they moved through the small crowd. “You’re like a human guidebook - it’s amazing! How do you remember all this stuff?”

  
“Well I don’t remember everything about every place I’ve visited,” she giggled. “Only the special ones.”

  
They finally made their way up to the wood counter, and Tom could see the kitchen staff working in the back, loading and taking out an endless array of pizzas from the ancient-looking wood-fired oven. A girl not much older than eighteen with long black hair done up in a messy topknot and cat’s-eye eyeliner came up to the register. 

  
“NUMBER 73! ORDER UP!” She yelled, as the expediter pushed the pizza up to the pickup window. She turned back and faced Tom and Beatrice. “What’ll you have?”

  
Beatrice turned to Tom. “You trust me?”

  
He gave her a soft little smile, his heart swelling at the way her face looked so hopeful and excited. There was something that tugged in him when he thought about how much she was a study in contrasts. She could be so incredibly sexy and wild and intoxicating in bed, and yet so genuinely vulnerable and innocent and charming in moments like this. And though he craved her body every second he was with her, he realized he craved the way her eyes squinted when she was deep in thought and the way her voice squeaked when she was excited about something even more.

  
“Of course.”

  
She felt a giddy little bubble well up in her as she turned back to the girl.

  
“One Sicilian, please and two large drinks.”

  
She handed them two cups and their order number. Tom fought her on paying, but Bea insisted, saying it was her treat since it was her idea and he finally acquiesced. Since the seating was full in the small restaurant, they grabbed their drinks and walked outside where there were some additional picnic tables in a little hidden nook. Tom took her hand to help her swing her legs over the bench, as it was slightly awkward to do in a dress and heels. They sat across from each other, taking in the warm city night as the world bustled around them.

  
“So how did your meeting go today?” Beatrice asked, taking a sip of her root beer.

  
Tom nodded thoughtfully.

  
“Very good, thank you. It looks like the production is going to come to Broadway and will likely run for about four months.”

  
“Wow, that’s amazing, Tom!” Beatrice grabbed his hand in excitement, making him chuckle.

  
“Yeah, I can’t believe it.”

  
“Well, now I definitely need to come see you.”

  
He smiled. “I would absolutely love that. It’s a little nerve-wracking though, if I’m being honest. Broadway is a whole other level of expectations and demands - performance-wise - so I just hope I’m up to the task.”

  
Beatrice looked at him incredulously. “Seriously? Listen, I admit I’m probably not the best judge, since all I’ve seen of your acting skills was about seven minutes long, but going on that and how you’ve spoken to me of your love of acting and your dedication to the process, I know you’ll be amazing.”

  
She took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze.

  
“Plus,” she said, blushing slightly, “You’re a very passionate person - that goes a long way.”

  
Tom bit his lower lip and smiled, stroking his finger across the back of her hand. She was surprised to see him look a little bashful at her words. 

  
_“NUMBER 83! ORDER UP!"_

  
Beatrice could hear the girl through the open door and moved to get up but Tom stopped her. 

  
“No, stay here darling - I’ll get it.”

  
She watched him swing those impossibly long legs over the bench and walk towards the door. She sighed blissfully to herself as she took in his long, confident strides and broad shoulders. 

  
A few short minutes later, he emerged with their pizza, his eyebrows raised in excitement as he set it down on the table between them. 

  
“I have to admit, this looks amazing!” he said, tucking his mile-long legs back under the picnic table.

  
Beatrice grabbed a piping hot slice and put it on her plate. “I look forward to coming here every time I’m in New York,” she confessed, her mouth already salivating. 

  
“Okay, same time?” Tom teased, holding up his own slice in front of him. 

  
Beatrice laughed. “Okay, same time,” she said, bringing her own slice up so that it was level with Toms. 

  
Tom tapped her pizza slice with his own. “Cheers, love,” he said, and they both took a bite at the same time. The familiar, wonderful flavor exploded in her mouth, and she couldn’t help but let out a groan.

  
She looked at Tom, who’s eyes were positively lit up in pleasure.

  
“Oh my God, this is absolutely amazing,” he said, sounding genuinely surprised. “I mean, I’ve had pizza before but this is PIZZA.”

  
Beatrice giggled. “Told you it was good.”

  
“Good doesn’t even cover it,” he said, already pulling a second slice onto his paper plate.

  
Beatrice smiled proudly, grabbing for some extra napkins from the metal dispenser on the table. 

  
“So how did your own meeting go today?” he asked, looking at her thoughtfully. 

  
Beatrice swallowed. “It was actually really good - I have my schedule for the next few months: Chicago, Austin, Toronto, Miami and then Barcelona and Reykjavik. Hopefully after that, I’ll go to London.”

  
“Wow, that’s impressive,” Tom said, whistling lowly. “And London too? You’ll definitely have to let me know when you go so I can give you the Hiddleston personal tour.”

  
Beatrice grinned. “Absolutely. I know it’s a lot of travel but I love doing it. They’re trying to get me to take a permanent position at either their New York or London office, but I don’t know if I want to do it just yet.”

  
“Why not?”

  
Beatrice leaned her elbows on the table, her finger tracing down the condensation on the side of her soda cup.

  
“Well, it would basically mean a desk job,” she said. “I’ve been traveling in some form or another since I was a baby - it’s the only lifestyle I’ve ever really known. I don’t know how I would do tied to only one place.”

  
Tom nodded, looking at her intently. 

  
“Well, a desk job doesn’t necessarily mean the end of experiences or adventure,” he said. “It can be a chance for new opportunities.”

  
Beatrice nodded, grabbing another slice. “I know, and it’s actually an amazing position - I’d have a big pay increase, which means I could actually get a house and not an apartment I’m never at, as well as decision-making over a lot of our content.”

  
“Sounds like a great offer.”

  
Beatrice sighed wistfully. “Yeah it is, I just don’t know if I’m in the right space for it yet.”

  
“Does commitment scare you?” 

  
Beatrice looked at him, surprised by the question. There was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t judgement, more like he was trying to understand something about her. 

  
“I don’t think it’s the commitment that scares me,” she said after a beat. “It’s more like, this has been the way I’ve always lived my life and I guess I’ve never found anything - or anyone - worth staying still for.”

  
Tom pressed his lips together, nodding.

  
“I can understand that,” he said, softly. “There are times where I wished I had become a professor or something instead of an actor, but I love doing it too much. Even the constant paparazzi,the endless interviews, and the long work hours don’t make me not love it any less.”

  
Beatrice couldn’t even begin to imagine what Tom’s life was like - constantly being hounded by people, stalked for photos, having to live his life under constant scrutiny. She wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t looking for a serious relationship. No girl stood a chance under the spotlight he stood under. Even if there was a scrap of possibility that Tom and her could have a relationship, how could it hope to survive?

  
They finished their pizza, and Tom took a picture or two with a few fans that recognized him sitting outside. Beatrice couldn’t help but admire how sweet and accommodating he was with his fans - she knew how much he appreciated their love and support of his work, despite the cost to his privacy.

  
“Well, I hope you are ready to work off that dinner, Hiddleston,” Beatrice said, as she stood next to the curb to hail them a cab.

  
Tom grinned, rubbing his dark, gingery beard as he started to stalk towards her.

  
“Why, my little Bea, what do you have in mind?”

  
Beatrice batted her eyelashes, putting a finger up to her full lips.

  
“Well, we will definitely be getting nice and sweaty with our bodies pressed together,” she said teasingly, as Tom’s eyes flashed greedily. “And at the end of it, we will most certainly be breathless and euphoric.”

  
“Mmmm, I like the sound of all of that,” Tom purred, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her flush against him. Beatrice felt her head spin slightly as she took in his woodsy/spicy scent and the way he felt so strong and warm against her. 

  
They hailed a taxi and a quick ride later, they pulled up to an industrial part of the city, in front of a building that looked all but abandoned to Tom from the outside. 

  
As they stepped out of the taxi, Tom looked at Beatrice in confusion.

  
“Is this it?” he said, feeling slightly concerned for her safety in this area. He quickly put an arm around her waist. Beatrice could sense his protectiveness and a little thrill ran through her.

  
She smiled up at him, and reached down to take his hand.

  
“Not quite. C’mon, follow me, Hiddleston.”

  
She led them around the side of an old masonry building, and Tom noticed a man dressed all in black standing by a set of stairs that looked like they went down into the basement of the building. Tom grabbed her hand tighter, trying to position himself more in between her and the strange man, but Beatrice just gave his hand a quick squeeze as if to reassure him they were in no danger.

  
“ID’s please,” the man said crisply, and Tom and Beatrice produced them from pocket and purse respectively. He quickly checked them and produced a hand stamp, which made the shape of a black palm tree on the back of their hands. He stood aside and they took it as their cue to make their way down the metal stairs. 

  
As they got close to the bottom, Tom started to hear upbeat music that seemed to be coming from inside the building. As Beatrice opened the basement door, the sound of dance music hit them both, and they were suddenly walking down a long, red-lit hallway. Tom let Beatrice guide him through the hall, the sound of the music, and now people exclaiming and talking getting louder until it opened up into a large room, complete with a stage and dance floor. Up on the stage, Tom could see a full salsa band playing to a packed dance floor, filled with people spinning, gliding, and gyrating to their sounds.

  
Tom’s face lit up in surprise. 

  
“Is this an underground salsa club?”

  
Beatrice giggled, glad that he seemed excited.

  
“Yes, it is - the best one in the city,” she said loudly, trying to make her voice heard above the din of the rowdy crowd. “You ready to dance with me, daddy?”

  
Tom’s face looked positively feral. “You bet, little one.”

  
They danced for what seemed like hours, and Beatrice wasn’t surprised to find out that Tom’s sense of rhythm extended outside the bedroom. The way that man could move that long, lean body of his was better than any aphrodisiac. He slid, twirled, and rolled his hips against Beatrice’s, one large hand resting at the beginning of her ass and the other running sensuously down her side, as he nestled a long leg in-between her own. Beatrice pressed her core against his thigh, rocking against it in rhythm to the music, feeling the delicious pressure of his muscular leg against her naked clit, covered only by the thin silk of her dress. Tom looked down at her, eyes dark, his jaw twitching. He grabbed her to him suddenly, stopping her movement on his leg.

  
“You are playing a dangerous game, little one, teasing me like that,” he growled.

  
Beatrice gave him a sultry look, sliding her hand down the front of his pants until she reached his now-prominent bulge and started palming his cock. 

  
“Who says I’m teasing?”

  
Tom’s eyes flashed and Beatrice immediately knew his cock would be inside of her very soon. He grabbed her to him and crushed his lips against hers. 

  
“I need you _ right now _.”

  
He took her hand, pulling her out of the club so fast she practically had to run to keep up with his purposeful strides. The cool night air hit them and it felt refreshing on Beatrice’s sweaty skin. Tom looked to make sure no one else was around and quickly pulled her into a little side alley, immediately pressing her back to the wall and devouring her lips. Beatrice responded back, her tongue plundering the depths of his mouth as she grabbed at his silky curls, earning a low moan from him.

  
“I’m sorry, my little one but I cannot wait to be in that divine little kitty of yours,” he said as he massaged her breast, feeling her nipple harden through her thin bra.

  
“Then fuck me please, Tom,” Beatrice panted, rubbing her leg up against him, seeking any friction she could get. 

  
Tom chuckled darkly. “Patience, love - I need to make sure you’re ready for me first.”

  
Moving his kisses from her lips down to the sensitive skin of her throat, Beatrice felt his hand slip under her dress and cup her mound, which was already soaked from their close dancing all night.

  
“Oh, my good girl,” he purred, his fingers starting to gently stroke through her swollen lips. “Always so wet for me - is this what I do to you? 

  
Beatrice looked into his eyes, surprised to find vulnerability briefly replacing the carnal desire that was just there. She held his gaze, hoping her eyes could communicate how much she desired this man and trusted him, as she felt anything she could say in that moment wouldn’t be nearly enough. So, she said the only thing she could.

  
“Yes.”

  
Tom growled and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her up so her legs wrapped around his waist. He quickly reached down between them to pull himself out, and Beatrice felt the hot, hard length of him slap her inner thigh as it bounced free of his trousers. God, but his cock was perfect. She started kissing his neck, as she felt him position his large head at her entrance, her tongue tracing the little freckles she saw there. He stilled for a moment, letting out a soft moan as she sucked hard at the long column of his throat, marking him and then laving her soft tongue over the red blotch that bloomed in her wake. 

  
“Put that gorgeous cock inside me, daddy,” she whispered in his ear. She instantly felt him push into her tunnel, loosing a loud moan from her throat as he did. Fuck, he felt incredible inside of her. 

  
“Fuck, little one, you are sooo tight!” he gasped, his hands sinking into her plush ass as he began to thrust into her, slamming her back into the wall. Beatrice didn’t even notice it, as the feeling of him rubbing that sweet spot inside her with his cock was getting her close to the edge. His hips moved against her they way they did when they were dancing together and she reached down to grab his ass. He moaned into her mouth as their tongues danced against each other, his thrusts increasing in speed so that the wiry hairs at the base of his cock rubbed against her aching clit. The sounds of their moans seemed to bounce off the buildings that made up the empty alleyway, but even if anyone had seen them, both Tom and Beatrice were too far gone to notice or care.

  
“Tom, I’m gonna cum!” Beatrice gasped, as their hips snapped against each other, chasing their release. 

  
“Cum with me, baby,” Tom gasped, his face buried in her neck. “I want to feel that tight pussy milk my cock.”

  
Tom thrusted hard into her two more times, the second thrust curving his cock so that the tip hit her cervix, immediately making her convulse and clench around Tom’s dick so hard that it set off his own orgasm, sending rope after rope of hot cum high into her. They both cried out against each other mouths, holding each other tight as they rode out their finishes. Beatrice trembled as Tom brushed her hair away from her face, murmuring soothing words and gently kissing her forehead and cheeks. When he finally pulled out of her, they both whimpered at the loss of contact, and Beatrice could feel a little of his cum slowly seeping out of her. Tom tucked himself back into his trousers and bent down, lifting her skirt so he could see the white trickle leave her flushed pussy.

  
“God, so beautiful my sweet Bea,” he whispered reverently, pressing a quick kiss to her mound. 

  
Beatrice blushed shyly, her legs feeling like jelly as she steadied herself against the brick wall. Tom stood back up and put his hands around her waist.

  
“How are you feeling, darling?”

  
“Like good things,” she said smiling, almost drunkenly.

  
Tom chuckled, wrapping a long arm around her shoulders as they started walking back towards the street. Beatrice slipped her arm around his waist as she snuggled into his side.

  
“C’mon - let’s get you back to your hotel. I still have plans for you tonight, little one.”

*****

Tom couldn’t remember having such an incredible night. Beatrice had been spot-on in all the places she took him to, and he felt awed by her knowledge of the city and in the fact that she wanted to share these special places with him. He was even more awed by her trust in him in the cab and in the alleyway. He had never been with someone who felt so much like his sexual match in every way, but more so, felt like his match in general. She was funny and smart and loving, and something in Tom kept tugging painfully when he thought about them finally saying goodbye. 

  
Their coupling that night in her hotel had been intimate and gentle, but no less incredible for Tom. The way she felt against him was comforting and familiar, yet sent a thrill through him every time and he found himself wanting to make her smile and laugh as much as he could. He had woken up that morning with his arms wrapped tightly around her warm, naked form, her face nestled into his chest, arm thrown across his waist. Her dark eyelashes were fanned across her rosy cheeks, full lips parted slightly in sleep, and Tom could hear her soft breathing as he felt her chest slightly rise and fall with each breath. _ Bloody hell, she was beautiful like this _. He could feel himself getting hard again as he softly stroked along her back. Her eyes started to flutter open and her sleepy green eyes found his.

  
“Hi,” she squeaked drowsily, breaking into a brilliant smile.

  
He looked down at her, smiling, brushing back her hair from her face.

  
“Hi, my lovely girl,” he said, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. “How are you feeling?”

  
She rubbed her eyes sleepily, and Tom’s stomach flipped at how adorable she looked at that moment.

  
“Mmmm...very good,” she giggled happily, snuggling into him even more.

  
Tom stroked his hand reverently along the curve of her hip, which was thrown over his leg, marveling at the velvety feel of it. 

  
“You have the softest skin I think I’ve ever felt,” he murmured, as he watched his hand trace over every inch of her creamy, exposed skin. Beatrice’s breath hitched at his touch, thinking back to all the events of last night. It had been one of the most incredible nights of her life, and for the first time in a long time, she was not looking forward to her next assignment. Tom was the most amazing man she had met since Marcus, and definitely surpassed Marcus in more ways than one. Though he could be dominant (which definitely appealed to her natural submissive tendencies) and extremely masculine and sexual, he was also so sweet and tender and fun. Marcus wasn’t fun and after their initial courting period, once he realized just how much Beatrice traveled, he wasn’t sweet either. He thought that proposing to her would force her to stop traveling as much, and when it didn’t, he admitted to her that he was cheating on her for months with one of his co-workers. Beatrice was heartbroken, and a part of her wondered if she would ever be able to have marriage, kids, and the whole shebang. Maybe she would never find a guy who could handle what she did for a living, but she had to admit that if anyone could, it would be a guy like Tom. 

  
“What do you have going today?” she asked Tom, as she gently stroked her fingers through the light tuft of blondish-red hair on his chest.

  
Tom fumbled for his phone on the nightstand beside him. He grabbed his glasses to look up his schedule on his phone, and Beatrice instantly had the urge to straddle him and ride him hard into the mattress. Never had eyeglasses on a man been so hot to her before.

  
“I have a few interviews across town this morning, a photo-shoot late in the day, and then a dinner tonight with some Disney executives,” he said, sounding morose. “How about you?”

  
She looked up at him, squinting her eyes in thought.

  
“I have a general staff meeting this morning, and an executive staff meeting after that - plus, I have some stuff I need to work on the office before I leave tomorrow morning,” she said, that last part coming out softer than she intended.

  
Tom put his phone back on the side table and turned to face her, bringing her closer to him and burying his face in the crook of her soft shoulder. Beatrice heard him take a deep breath of her in before kissing her neck gently and pulling back so he could look at her again.

  
“I’m really going to miss you, Bea,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “Will you promise to keep in touch?”

  
Bea smiled, surprised and touched at his words. Though he seemed to be sincere, part of her couldn’t help but be realistic about their circumstances once they were back in the “real-world” again. Tom was a movie star, traveling and shooting all over the world, with a long line of gorgeous women just stepping over each other to be his one-night stand. And though she didn’t exactly have lines of men falling at her feet, she did have a few numbers in her phone that she took advantage of once in a while when she happened to be in their town. And, she, like Tom, was married to her job, and though it may not be that way forever, it was a reality right now. She knew the smart thing for her to do was to keep Tom in the fuck-buddy section of her phone contacts and not have any expectations that he would contact her.

  
“Of course I’ll keep in touch,” she said, the words feeling tight in her throat. She stroked his cheek, loving the way his dark gingery beard felt against her palm.

  
“You know, I don’t have anything during lunchtime,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “We should try and sneak in one more tourist adventure.”

  
She laughed, kissing him playfully on the lips.

  
“Sounds good to me - I’m free during lunch too.”

  
“What is something you haven’t done here?

  
Beatrice chuckled, slightly embarrassed. “Well, if I’m being honest, I’ve never been to the top of the Empire State Building,” she confessed.

  
Tom gasped, looking playfully offended and setting off a round of giggles from Beatrice.

  
“Why, Beatrice Marie Clark!” he said, dramatically. Beatrice couldn’t help but be impressed that he actually remembered her full name. And saying it in that delicious voice was like Christmas come early. “Haven’t been to the Empire State Building? I should take your travel expert badge away from you and give you a spanking!”

  
Beatrice turned bright red as he proceeded to tickle her mercilessly and playfully smack her bare bottom, peals of laughter emanating from her as she thrashed around in bed. Tom couldn’t help but get incredibly turned on watching her unabashed glee, the way her body started to flush a gorgeous rosy color, and how her full, round breasts jostled and bounced as she tried to get away from the over-stimulation.

  
He finally stopped, and they found themselves red-faced and breathless. Tom suddenly pulled her to him, kissing her passionately as he hand roamed down to squeeze her sumptuous ass. Beatrice immediately responded, digging her fingers through his curls and feeling his thick length press into her stomach. When they finally pulled away, Tom looked at her, his impossibly blue eyes soft and sad looking. 

  
“I wish I could just stay with you all day in this bed,” he said, his mouth twitching morosely, as his finger traced gentle circles around her hardened nipples, making her gasp. “I need to head back to my hotel and get ready though.”

  
Beatrice nodded, shifting towards him so that she could press against him, bare skin to bare skin, and softly kissed his already reddened lips, lightly sucking his lower lip between her two plump ones until she released it with a muted “pop.”

  
“Noon then?”

  
Tom swallowed hard, nodding, his eyes hungry with desire.

  
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”


	4. Departures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Beatrice say good-bye...or do they? The feels start kicking in, kids!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Over a thousand hits on this?! Thanks you guys for all the kudos and love - it's so appreciated!!!
> 
> Pic collage of places/people/looks for this chapter can be found at my Flickr page here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/184448556@N07/48859393387/in/dateposted-public/

A few hours later, Beatrice sat in the Lonely Planet conference room as the executives slowly started filing out. Beatrice moved her head back and forth, her hand massaging out a kink in her neck from the long morning of meetings she had just had. Her phone pinged with a text notification, and she smiled when she saw it was from Tom.

  
It was a slightly blurry selfie of him, mid-yawn, sitting in a chair, and surrounded by what looked to be several professional lighting rigs. He was obviously in the middle of doing interviews.

  
** _T: IS IT NOON YET?_ **

  
Beatrice pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. 

  
Phoebe, another senior staff writer she was friends with was collecting her stuff, when she looked over at Beatrice smiling at her phone.

  
“Somebody special?”

  
Beatrice’s head shot up, not even realizing that Phoebe was still there.

  
“Oh no, just a friend of mine,” she said dismissively, turning the screen of her camera more towards her chest so Phoebe couldn’t see anything.

  
Phoebe’s eyes shot up sarcastically. “Right, just a friend - and I’m the Duchess of Cornwall. C’mon Beatrice, you can’t fool me, you got that sex glow about you.”

  
“What?” 

  
“Oh please, ever since you’ve been here you’ve had this stupid little grin on your face and you’ve been blushing whenever you’ve been deep in thought.”

  
Beatrice immediately felt herself blush again and put her hands up to her cheeks, hoping to keep it from Phoebe, but of course, failed miserably.

  
“See!” Phoebe exclaimed, pointing at her triumphantly. “Now spill it.”

  
Beatrice rolled her eyes, exasperated. “He’s just a guy I met on the plane and we’ve been hanging out ever since. It’s nothing serious.”

  
Phoebe sat back down next to her, folding her arms across her chest. 

  
“Not serious huh?” she said skeptically. “Well, your glowy ‘I’ve been fucked recently face’ begs to differ.”

  
“Oh my god, I’m not doing this with you.”

  
Phoebe chucked. “Oh yes, you are. Now c’mon, this guy must be pretty special because I haven’t seen you look this happy since Marcus.”

  
Beatrice rolled her eyes. “Yeah and look where that got me.”

  
Phoebe waved her hand away dismissively. “Oh no, don’t even start with me on that. Yes, Marcus was a tool, but he did make you happy at first - and who knows, this guy could be the right guy for you, the guy who deserves you.”

  
“Phoebe, I’m leaving tomorrow and he’s leaving soon too. We both travel like crazy and have known each other for a grand total of three days - how in the hell is this supposed to work?”

  
“So, you admit you want to keep seeing him?”

  
“I don’t know - “

  
Phoebe interrupted. “Take the long distance out of it. If you guys were both in the same place at the same time on a long-term basis, would this be a guy you would want to date?”

  
Beatrice shifted in her seat, playing with the edge of her phone. “Well yeah,” she said. “He’s smart, charming, funny, respectful, gorgeous, and passionate.”

  
“Well then, keep in touch with the guy,” Phoebe said, lightly hitting her on the arm. “It sounds like you really like him and why wouldn’t he like you. Even if you guys both travel a lot right now, maybe things will change in the future. What could it hurt to at least keep the lines of communication open?”

  
Beatrice was silent for a minute before she worked herself up to say the one thing she was afraid to say out loud.

  
“What if he meets someone else?”

  
Phoebe gave her a small smile. “Well, it could happen. And hell, you could even meet someone even better than him, though by your description of him, the odds are pretty low.”

  
“Well, what then?”

  
“Then at least you know and you guys can deal with it when and if that time comes. But right now, what do you have to lose?”  
  


*****

  
Beatrice’s cab pulled up to the front of the Empire State Building a little before noon. She smoothed down her black slacks as she stepped out, feeling a mixture of both excitement and melancholy at seeing Tom again. This would be the last time they’d see each other for a while, maybe ever. Beatrice didn’t want to think about that and tried to keep a positive thought for a reunion in their future.

  
She walked into the lobby and immediately spotted Tom, somehow managing to look devastatingly sexy in a pair of black jeans, gray suede oxfords, and a form-fitting, long-sleeved navy shirt that highlighted every inch of his lean but muscular upper body. Beatrice instantly felt herself getting wet and mentally cursed herself to get it together. Right then, he spotted her, breaking out in a huge smile that made her stomach all fluttery.

  
“Hey, my beautiful Bea,” he said softly, as he enveloped her in a big hug, burying his face in her neck and inhaling her scent. God, he was going to miss that smell. It was like her scent was genetically engineered to be an aphrodisiac for him.

  
“Hey,” she whispered, hugging him back.

  
He rubbed her back soothingly as they pulled away, before taking her hand. “Ready?”

  
She nodded and smiled, squeezing his hand lightly as they walked through the enormous marble lobby. Beatrice felt as though she had been transported back in time, admiring the Art Deco features of the enormous silver and gold clock and the inlaid replica of the building that took up the entire back wall. They stepped into the elevator and Beatrice immediately smiled when she recognized the elevator buttons from the movie  _ Elf _ , done in the shape of the building itself.

  
They finally stepped out onto the 86th floor, which was the home to the popular observation deck, and Beatrice couldn’t help but let out a low “wow.” The entire ceiling was done like a giant compass, with famous New York landmarks called out by their position from the building: the Chrysler Building was due east, the Brooklyn Bridge was south, and so on. In front of them stood a bank of windows that looked out onto the actual observation deck, which already had a good number of tourists already on it.

  
“Wow, this is amazing,” Tom said, standing next to her. 

  
“Did you know that on a Saturday back in 1945, a B-25 Bomber actually crashed into the 79th floor of the building due to heavy fog,” Beatrice said, as they walked around, hand-in-hand. “Even though there was a fire and a 20-foot gouge in the side of the building, they were able to clean everything up and open for business that Monday.”

  
Tom looked at her. “How do you know that? I thought you’d never been here.”

  
Beatrice smiled. “I may have asked around work today for some info on the building.”

  
Tom chuckled and kissed her hand. “My little guidebook. Want to go out on the deck?”

  
“Sure.”

  
They opened the heavy glass door, the wind whipping around them slightly as they stepped out onto the deck. Tom maneuvered them around the crowd outside, looking for a quiet corner they could settle at. Once they found one, Tom let Beatrice in front him so she was pressed against the barrier, his arms wrapped around her from behind, as they looked out over the entire city. Breathtaking didn’t even begin to describe it.

  
“This is incredible Tom,” she whispered, emotion creeping up into her voice. “Thanks so much for suggesting it.”

  
Tom squeezed her lightly, kissing the top of her head. “You’re welcome, little one - I’ve had an amazing few days with you.”

  
“Me too.”

  
Tom turned her around, his blue eyes wistful. “I have something for you.” 

  
Beatrice’s face looked slightly puzzled as he dug into his jacket pocket, producing a small, blue-velvet box and holding it out to her. Beatrice immediately felt her blood start to thunder in her ears. Tom seemed to sense her panic and gave a little grin.

  
“Don’t worry, it’s not what you think.”

  
Beatrice took the box and opened it, gasping upon seeing it’s contents. Inside, sat two delicate gold diamond earrings, both in the shape of tiny honeybees.

  
“Tom, oh my God,” she said, positively gobsmacked. “These are gorgeous!”

  
Tom smiled, taking the box from her and pulling them out, so she could put them on. She unfastened her modest silver hoops, putting them in her purse so she could put Tom’s on. She positively beamed when she finally had them on, unable to stop touching them as if to make sure they were still real.

  
“Tom, these are the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen but it’s too much,” she said, awed, shaking her head in disbelief as her eyes start to well up.

  
Tom pulled her to him, placing his hand under her chin and gently forcing her to look at him. His eyes crinkled warmly as he smiled at her.

  
“It’s not too much for you, my little Bea,” he said, lowly. “I didn’t want you to leave without having a memory of me. The past couple of days have been some of the best I’ve had in a very long time, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t wished that our circumstances were different. You’re an amazing woman, Bea - you’re smart, sweet, sexy, and everything I could ever ask for and more. I know we both said we couldn’t do anything serious, but I don’t want us to part and never talk to each other again. I care for you, Bea. More than I expected to. I don’t want to lose you from my life. I know the way things are right now doesn’t make anything long-term possible, but let’s at least make a promise to each other to stay in touch and see each other as much as possible when we can. I can’t say goodbye to you, I refuse to.”

  
Tears spilled out of the corners of Beatrice’s eyes, and Tom gently brushed them away, leaving a kiss on each cheek in their wake.

  
“Please let’s not say goodbye, Bea,” he croaked, suddenly sounding choked up. “I don’t think I can handle it.”

  
“Me either,” Beatrice confessed, burying her head into his chest as she felt his arms squeeze around her tightly.

  
“Good,” he sniffed, almost to himself, as he tried to regain control of his voice. “That’s settled. No goodbyes.”

  
She looked up at him, her chin resting on his chest. He mustered up a reassuring smile, but Beatrice could see the pain in his watery eyes and she realized for the first time just how much he actually cared for her. 

  
“Tom, can I ask a favor of you?”

  
He smiled down at her, his eyes sparkling happily again. “Anything, my little one.”

  
“Can we take a picture together? I just realized I don’t have any pictures of you.”

  
He bent down and kissed her softly on the lips. “Of course.”

  
Beatrice got her phone out and turned the camera so they could take a selfie. Tom wrapped himself tightly around her, bringing his head down so that it touched hers affectionately. She took the picture and Tom insisted she take another one as he unexpectedly kissed her on the cheek, making her laugh mid-picture. Tom did the same with his own phone, attacking her at one point with lots of ticklish little kisses so that she would laugh again. They both looked back over the photos and Beatrice couldn’t help but notice how much they looked like a real couple in love.  _ It can’t be that though, could it?, _ she thought.

  
They made their journey back downstairs go as slow as possible, both of them touching the other as much as possible as if to suck up as much physical sensation as they could before they left. Once they were downstairs, Tom turned her around to face him, his lips pressed together tight in resolve.

  
“I’m probably going to be in Atlanta by the time you’re in Miami,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Let’s try and get together around then - I’ll fly out to see you.”

  
“Really? Are you sure you’ll have the time?”

  
He looked down at her, his pale blue eyes serious. “I meant what I said, Beatrice. No goodbyes. I want to see you again. It may take a little extra coordination but you’re more than worth it...this - (he motioned between them with his hand) - is worth it. You do want to see me again, right?”

  
Beatrice saw the concern flood his beautiful features, and instantly she pulled him down into a kiss, pouring all her desire and want for this man into it, her fingers threading through his curls. He seemed surprised for a moment, and then quickly responded to her, wrapping his arms around her waist as they lost themselves in the kiss. 

  
“Tom, of course I want to see you again,” she said softly as they finally broke apart. “I’d love for you to come see me in Miami.”

  
He broke out in a huge smile, looking relieved. “Good.”

  
They walked outside and Beatrice hailed a cab to take her back to the office, Tom’s hand still holding hers. 

  
“Do you need a ride?” she asked, as the cab pulled up to the curb.

  
“No, thanks love, I’ve got a car waiting around the corner for me,” he said softly, gathering her up in his arms again. Beatrice noticed his eyes slowly roving over her face, as if he was trying to memorize it and she felt something constrict in her chest. She moved up on her toes at the same time Tom bent down to her, both of them having the same thought at that moment. Their lips met quickly, but the kiss itself was slow and passionate, full of things left unsaid and feelings not articulated. For the first time in a long time, Tom wasn’t worried about paps or fans catching them in the midst of an intense kiss in an extremely public area. The only thing he could think of in that moment was how velvety soft her lips were, how wonderful and small she felt against him, and how Miami seemed an eternity away. 

  
As they finally pulled away, Tom’s voice came out in a croak. “I’ll text you tonight, darling.”

  
Beatrice nodded, swallowing hard, turning to get into the cab. Tom helped her in, closing the door gently once she was seated. She looked back at him through the window, touching her earrings reverently, a tear spilling from the corner of her eye as she gave him the sweetest smile he thought he had ever seen. He blew her a kiss as the cab took off, watching it disappear into the afternoon traffic. Though the crush of the lunchtime crowds flowed around him, and the sounds of construction and car horns created an endless cacophony, Tom felt with heavy realization how very alone he suddenly was.


	5. Cabin Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Bea deal with their separation the only way they know how - plenty of dirty phone sex. But will Tom's growing feelings cause him to pull away?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you are wondering, yes, Tom's white boxer short photo shoot from W Magazine in 2016 inspired this chapter (as well as all my wet dreams since then :)
> 
> Photo collage inspiration for this chapter can again be found at my Flickr page here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/184448556@N07/48735290157/in/dateposted-public/

Beatrice felt like she had never eaten so much in her life. She had been in Chicago a total of two days, and that night her friends Jenna and Sam had taken her on a tasting tour of Chinatown, which she was eager to recommend to the Lonely Planet readers. She had known the couple for three years, and they owned a thriving farm-to-table restaurant in Wicker Park, so when she was in town, she always hit them up for the best places to eat.

  
They had ended the evening tucking into the most delicate handmade lamb and coriander dumplings at a tiny, six-table restaurant in the heart of Chinatown. Beatrice took a sip of her Tsingtao beer as she listened to Jenna talk about improvements they’ve been making to the restaurant, but her mind was distracted.

  
After she had left New York, a picture of her and Tom surfaced on the gossip sites online. The picture was pretty innocuous - Tom helping her into the cab that day in front of the Empire State Building (thankfully after their kiss) - but that was all it took for the internet to get thrown in a tizzy. Everyone wondered who this “mystery brunette” was and if Tom was finally moving on from “she-who-shall-not-be-named.” Tom called her the day the picture broke and said not to concern herself with it. They didn’t have a clean shot of her face and he assured her the frenzy would die down in a few days.

  
Beatrice honestly wasn’t really worried. She knew that without any fuel, the rumor would eventually run out of gas and people would move on. Still, it was surreal to see herself plastered all over gossip sites. She even made the mistake of going on a few Instagram fan pages to see what was being said about her. Most seemed supportive of Tom if he was in a relationship, glad for him if he was indeed finally moving on and happy. Others were not as kind, seeming to think she was probably a gold-digger and likely only into Tom for his fame and what he had in his pants. After that, she decided to stay off social media for a bit and just focus on her travel assignments ahead.

  
“So who is he?”

  
Beatrice shook herself out of her musings, realizing that Jenna was looking at her.

  
“Hmmm? Who?”

  
Jenna and Sam both chuckled.

  
“The guy you have obviously been spacing out on while I’ve been talking for the past five minutes,” she said, smiling knowingly.

  
“How do you know I’m even thinking about a guy?” Beatrice said defensively.

  
Jenna smirked. “Because your face is completely flushed and you’ve had a vague, dreamy look about you all evening.”

  
Beatrice looked over to Sam.

  
“It’s true,” he concurred.

  
Beatrice let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, yes, I did meet a guy when I was in New York but it’s nothing serious. We’re just having fun.”

  
“Hun, women do not look like that over a guy they’re just ‘having fun’ with,” she said, punctuating her statement with air quotes. “If you like him that’s totally fine - it’s great, actually!”

  
Beatrice angrily took a bite of her dumpling. Why did her stupid face have to always give everything away?

  
“It doesn’t matter if I like him or not,” she said, bitterly. “It won’t work out anyway.”

  
Jenna leaned forward on the table. “Why not?”

  
“Because we both have jobs where we have to travel most of the year, so how can we possibly ever hope to see each other, and plus he is so high-profile - “

  
She quickly pressed her lips together tightly, realizing what she just let slip.

  
Jenna raised an eyebrow. “Wait a minute, girl. Are you dating a celebrity?”

  
Beatrice groaned, sitting back in her seat. Why the fuck did she have to blurt that out?

  
“Okay, once again, we are not dating and yes, he is fairly well-known.”

  
Jenna and Sam looked at each other, their eyes positively lighting up.

  
“Is he a singer or an actor?” Sam asked.

  
Beatrice shot him a look, flicking an errant strand of chestnut hair back behind her shoulder.

  
“He’s an actor and that’s as much as I’m telling you,” she said with finality.

  
“Oh my God, that’s so cool!” squealed Jenna.

  
Beatrice ran her hands over her face, unable to believe this is where the evenings conversation had veered off to.

  
“No, it’s not cool,” Beatrice said, acidly. “It’s a pain in the ass. I can’t be seen with this guy or else it will blow up in the tabloids, and even when I do get to see him again, there’s always going to be an expiration date on us, no matter how amazing it is when we are together.”

  
She suddenly felt tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, and Jenna reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

  
“Beatrice,” she said softly. “I don’t know what your relationship is with this guy, but you obviously have some deep feelings for him. What I do know for sure is that love is messy. It’s inconvenient, and it’s often painful. It doesn’t wait for us to be in the right time or right place. It’s an unstoppable force. And the sooner we realize that and embrace it, the happier we are.”

  
With that, Sam put his arm around Jenna and pulled her to him, kissing her temple lovingly.

  
“It’s true, Beatrice,” he said, his eyes soft and sympathetic. “This may not be the ideal timing for either of you, but if this guy feels even a little bit of what you obviously do for him, then you both owe it to yourselves to find a way.”

  
*****

Tom was exhausted. He was back in London for a little while before he had to head to Atlanta, and had been doing back-to-back matinee and evening performances of his play, not to mention meetings and interviews. That night in particular had been particularly tiring, as they had technical issues at the matinee and then he had a meet-and-greet, plus a late dinner with the producers after.

  
He had all but crawled into bed, shedding his clothing as he went until he was down to his white boxers. He could hear the wind start to pick up outside and vaguely remembered hearing something about thunderstorms forecasted in London tonight. He collapsed, face-down onto the king-sized bed with a groan, closing his eyes until he heard a whimper from the floor. He opened one eye to see his dog Bobby, looking at him expectantly.

  
“What’s up, Bobby?” he said, his mouth half-muffled by the comforter beneath him. “You want a cuddle?”

  
Bobby nosed at the bed and whimpered slightly.

  
“Okay, c’mon boy,” Tom grumbled, turning onto his back and putting his head on the pillows, patting the space beside him. Bobby immediately jumped up, turning a few times before settling beside Tom.

  
Tom looked at his phone, opening up his Instagram. He immediately saw a picture of Beatrice on his feed. It was a picture of her with two other people in Chinatown in Chicago. She stood in the middle of them, the guy and the girl’s arms wrapped around her, all of them smiling. Tom couldn’t help but feel a tug of jealousy seeing the guy’s arm around her. Not even so much that he was touching her, though that was part of it, but mostly because he was exactly where Tom wanted to be at that moment. Ever since they parted ways in New York, this strange, hollow feeling seemed to be following Tom around everywhere he went. It’s like a room that you’ve walked into for years where suddenly, one day, someone changed all the light bulbs from 40 watt to 30 watt: nothing intrinsic about the room is actually different, but you know something is off.

  
He scratched the top of Bobby’s head as he looked through the pictures he took of himself and Bea in New York. They had texted back and forth since then and when that picture of them broke, he was admittedly more pissed than he let Bea on to - not so much for himself, but he felt protective of Bea’s privacy and didn’t want her exposed to all the ugly scrutiny that inevitably happens when he’s out with a woman. At least they didn’t get her face, so Tom felt a little relieved at that.

  
Even though he was exhausted, he felt his cock starting to stir. Normally, he would hit up Laura, whom he met doing a production years ago here in London and see if she was still up, but he felt strange thinking of calling up a booty call when he could only think about Bea.

  
_Ah, fuck it._

  
He opened up his contacts and hit the call button, biting his lip anxiously.

  
After about three rings he heard her pick up.

  
“Hey, Tom.”

  
Her voice was sweet and slightly throaty and it washed over him like a warm blanket.

  
“Hey, my Bea.”

  
She giggled a little and he felt his cock twitch. “You’re up late,” she said. “What are you up to?”

  
“Just laying in bed here with Bobby and he suggested I call you.”

  
Her laugh sounded like velvet through the phone. “Did he now? Well, I’m surprised considering we’ve never met.”

  
“Oh well, he’s heard very good word-of-mouth about you.”

  
“And from whose mouth has he been hearing those good words from?”

  
“Mostly mine, but there are also a lot of dogs at the park that are some real gossips.”

  
She laughed hard at that, and Tom could hear her shifting slightly through the phone.

  
“What are you up to, little one?”

  
He heard her give a little tired sigh. “Just got back from hanging out with friends here - had an amazing dinner.”

  
“I know, I just saw your picture on Instagram.”

  
“Ah, how stalker-ish of you.”

  
“I know. I’m actually hiding in your closet as we speak.”

  
She laughed and Tom stretched out more in his bed, wishing he could see that laugh in person right now.

  
“Hey, can we Skype?"

  
“Sure - I’ll call you back in a minute.”

  
Tom hung up, settling himself up a little more against his pillows. Bobby, dismayed by all the sudden movement on the bed, got up and trotted out of the room, presumably to go sleep on his chewed-up cushion downstairs.

  
He heard his Skype ringtone go off and could already see Beatrice smiling at him in the corner of the screen.

  
"There's my beautiful girl,” he said, smiling back at her as he swiped the green button up.

  
A little shiver went through Beatrice as his words. She couldn’t help it. It was the submissive side of her that made her crave Tom’s praise, especially in that velvety voice of his. She had to stop herself from gawping at him when he finally appeared on her screen. He was lying on top of a big, ivory comforter in bed, wearing nothing but some thin, white cotton boxer shorts. His lean muscles flexed and moved underneath his smooth, pale skin, and she could see the spattering of freckles she so adored across his shoulders, forearms, and abdomen. She could instantly start to feel the arousal pool in the pit of her stomach.

  
“Hey handsome - you look exhausted.”

  
He sighed running a hand through his long curls. Beatrice bit her lip, feeling her pussy tingle with want. _God, he looked like sex on a plate_.

  
“Yeah, had a long day today but it’s better now that I’m talking to you.”

  
She blushed and Tom let his hand briefly brush across his now-hardening cock, watching as the rosy color gently painted her cheeks and smooth cleavage, which was on display in a black silk top.

  
“When do you head to Miami?”

  
She settled onto her own bed, sitting cross-legged. “I have Austin after this, then Toronto, and then I head to Miami on the 23rd.”

  
Tom sighed heavily, wishing she there was with him right now. “I can’t wait to see you, little one.”

  
“Me too - I have to confess, I watched the first and second Thor movies on the plane ride here.”

  
“Oh really,” Tom said sitting up in interest, his voice suddenly like dark honey. “And what did you think, little one?”

  
Beatrice smiled slyly at him, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

  
“I thought you looked sexy in all that dark leather and long, black hair.”

  
Tom ran a finger along his bottom lip, his eyes darkening seductively. “And what else?”

  
“And now, thanks to you, I have a fantasy about holding on to those Loki horns while you go down on me.”

  
Tom chuckled. “Hmmm...I think we can make that happen one of these days. Tell me, my beautiful girl, did you get aroused when you watched it?”

  
Beatrice bit her bottom lip, nodding.

  
“Did you want to touch yourself?”

  
She felt a surge of desire at his words, and she knew that if she moved her hand down and touched her panties, they would be soaking.

  
“Yes.”

  
“_Show_ me.”

  
Beatrice wet her lips, moving off the bed and setting her phone on it’s stand by the bed, ensuring Tom still had a clear view of her as she stood slightly back. She could see him looking close at her through the camera, a sly grin on his face.

  
She looked at the camera as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a black bra with transparent mesh-like cups that Tom could see her now-erect nipples through. Beatrice instantly saw him sit up with a growl.

  
“Bloody hell, little one - that’s what you wore out tonight?!”

  
“Well, it was under clothes,” she giggled. “Plus, it’s comfy.”

  
Tom shook his head slightly in disbelief, chuckling as he bit his lower lip. “You’re gonna be the death of me, love.”

  
Beatrice smiled and moved her hands up to the front of her jeans, bringing the zipper down and slowly sliding them down over her hips and down her legs, revealing a pair of tiny white panties dotted with red cherries.

  
She saw Tom licking his lips, now laid back and stroking his growing length through his thin boxers.

  
“Mmmm….so sweet, little girl,” he growled, noticing a small dark spot on her panties right where her pussy lips were. “And my, my... already so wet for me too.”

  
Beatrice shivered, feeling her cheeks flush at his words. She unhooked her bra, throwing it off to the side as her ample double-D’s were fully revealed. Tom let out an audible groan as his resolve finally broke, pulling his now wholly erect cock out of his boxers, slowly stroking it from root to tip.

  
She pushed her panties down all the way to the floor, stepping out of them as her eyes flicked back up to Tom, her pulse racing.

  
His eyes looked positively feral, and she could spot a few drops of pre-cum already leaking from the head of his engorged cock.

  
“Such a delectable little pussy. Now, on the bed baby,” he commanded, trying to keep his voice from shaking with the desire he felt. He wanted nothing more than to be able to touch her in this moment, remembering how velvety soft she felt under his touch and how the scent of her warm skin was like a drug to him.

  
She immediately went over to the bed, and his heart swelled at her trust and acceptance of his domination. He had always been a little reluctant to fully explore his dominant tendencies in the past, unsure about what it said about him and what his partners would think of it. It was a side he kept mostly hidden, with the exception of his favorites list on Pornhub and his internet search history. Most of his previous partners had blanched or immediately hesitated when he allowed himself to let his dominant side show, but Beatrice never faltered or demurred, and in fact, would exhibit little cues he knew she didn’t realize she was doing, that led Tom to believe she was a natural submissive. It bolstered his hopes that he could eventually be with someone he could truly be his dominant self with, without fear of reprisal or embarrassment.

  
He watched as she settled herself on the bed, propping her head and back up on some pillows, making sure to keep her full body in Tom’s eye-line, as close to the phone as she could get.

  
“Such a good girl,” Tom purred, sending a shudder of arousal through her. “Pretend your touch is my touch. Start with your neck and then slowly move down to those perfect tits.”

  
Beatrice complied, moving her head so her neck was bared to him, softly caressing the thin skin there as Tom murmured encouragements.

  
She worked her fingers across the expanse of her clavicle and then down until they brushed across her breasts.

  
“Play with those lovely, tender nipples little one,” Tom murmured.

  
Beatrice bit her lip as she squeezed the globes of her breasts - the soft, peachy flesh spilling out from between her fingers as she pinched and rolled her nipples until they were standing hard and erect.

  
“Don’t you dare hide your noises,” Tom growled, making her eyes fly open. He had stopped stroking himself but still gripped his cock firmly at the base. “I want to hear every sound.”

  
“Yes, daddy,” she mewled, feeling a surge of arousal at his command.

  
Tom longingly watched as Beatrice continued to caress herself, his mouth watering at the sight of her little hand moving down over her soft stomach, remembering how sweet and supple her skin tasted there. He was already painfully hard and knew he wouldn’t last long.

  
He watched as she moved her hand down to her now-flushed pussy, her small fingers stroking gently through her folds, gathering the wetness there and bringing it up to rub her stiff clit.

  
“That’s a good girl, so open and dripping for me,” Tom murmured, stroking his length leisurely. “Insert a finger for me love, let’s feel how warm and ready you are for me.”

  
Beatrice slipped a finger inside her molten passage, mewling both in arousal and disappointment that her hands were so much smaller than Toms. Her finger just didn’t feel the same as Tom’s elongated digits.

  
“Now, fuck yourself with your finger as you rub that sweet little clit of yours,” Tom commanded, his hand starting to move faster over his cock as he watched Bea, enraptured.

  
Beatrice did as he said, moving her finger in and out of her tight passageway as her other hand worked her clit. She moaned, her hips rolling lightly as warm currents of pleasure started to course through her. She heard Tom groan as she added another finger to the one currently thrusting in and out of her.

  
“Oh fuck yes, my darling girl,” he panted, his strokes coming faster now as Beatrice watched him, her mouth open and face flushed. Seeing him stroking his cock was unbelievably erotic and she knew she was going to come soon.

  
Tom, for his part, was trying to hold off his orgasm until Bea came first, but the sight of her rubbing her clit while finger-fucking herself was the sexiest thing he had ever seen and he finding it increasingly difficult not to blow early.

  
“Does it feel like my cock is thrusting in and out of that tight pussy, little one?”

  
Beatrice’s brow furrowed as she let out a frustrated whine. “No, it doesn’t feel the same as you, daddy - my fingers are too little. I miss your cock in me.”

  
“I know, sweet girl,” he said, biting back a groan at her words. “Why don’t you add a third finger so it feels more like you’re stretching around daddy’s cock.”

  
His good girl did as she was told, and he nearly gasped at the sight of her pussy stretching to accommodate the additional digit, triggering memories of her snug cunt clenching around him.

  
“NGGHHHH,” Beatrice moaned, her hips canting faster as she started barreling towards her finish. “I need….I need…”

  
“What do you need, my beautiful Bea?” Tom purred. God, he was so damn close.

  
She looked at him, the sea-green of her eyes nearly completely obscured by her blown pupils. Sweaty strands of her silky, brown hair clung to forehead and her plump lips were panting and reddened. Tom thought she had never looked more beautiful.

  
“I….neeeeed….need to cum, daddy!”

  
“Cum, my beautiful girl,” he grunted, as his pumped his fist faster over his now nearly-purple cock. “I want your eyes on me as you come apart.”

  
Beatrice felt the string at the base of her spine snap as her orgasm rolled through her like a freight train.

  
“FUCK! TOMMMM!!!” she cried out, her back arching as her whole body shuddered violently. She was pretty sure the entire 12th floor of the Omni Hotel Chicago heard her.

  
Tom couldn’t hold back anymore, watching this lovely thing come apart before him.

  
“God, Bea!” he cried out, as Beatrice watched his abdominals flex with the force of his orgasm - long ropes of white cum painting his belly and spilling over his hand. He fell back, panting hard as Beatrice moved to pick up her phone.

  
“I think you broke my brain, darling,” he chuckled after a minute, reaching for some tissues.

  
Beatrice laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be allowed back at this hotel again.”

  
Tom winked at her, sitting up again and bringing his face closer to the screen. He looked at her - hair tousled, cheeks rosy, a blissful smile on her face - and felt a stab of longing that he couldn’t take her into his arms.

  
“Miami can’t come soon enough,” he sighed, watching as she smiled softly, propping her elbows up on some pillows as she lay on her stomach, her chin resting on the heel of her hand.

  
“I know, but it will fly by sooner than we think,” she said reassuringly. “In the meantime, you need to get some rest, Mister. I know you haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

  
Tom felt something constrict in his throat. When she tucked her hair behind her ear, and he was able to see what was on her ears, that feeling got even worse.

  
“You’re wearing the earrings,” he rasped.

  
She blushed, moving her hands up to her ears and touching the little diamond honeybees there.

  
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I wear them every day.”

  
Tom cleared his throat, trying to shake the sudden surge of emotion he felt. “Well, I should probably get some sleep,” he said, stiffly. “Talk soon?”

  
“Sure - sweet dreams, daddy,” she said, blowing him a kiss through the screen.

  
“Sweet dreams, little one,” giving her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as they both hung up.

  
Tom laid back in his bed with a sigh. For a relationship that was supposed to be mutually casual, Tom’s feelings were starting to be anything but, and he was suddenly gripped with fear. He had remembered feeling this way with Taylor, how spectacularly messy and painful it had all been when it ended, and if he was honest with himself, the feelings he was starting to have for Bea were even stronger. He wanted Bea, cared for her, but how could they make a serious relationship work? What if they decided to go for it and it all imploded in the spotlight again? Tom had barely managed to salvage both his career and his heart last time it happened, and he didn’t hope to be so lucky a second time around.

  
Tom turned over, clutching his pillow closer to him as thunder rumbled outside his window, the skies finally opening under the dark London night. Rain started to ping against his windows, the sound echoing through the cavernous bedroom, as Tom eventually fell into an uneasy sleep, his stomach a knot of anxiety.


	6. Turbulence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miami brings about revelations...both good and bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg over 2,000 hits - you guys rock! Thank you again for all your lovely comments and feedback - it is sooo appreciated!
> 
> Sorry for the delay on this one guys, but it was super tough to write (I tried to balance it out with some smutty goodness to keep you guys appeased).
> 
> Once again, the photo collage for this chapter can be found at my Flickr page here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/184448556@N07/48948543056/in/dateposted-public/

Beatrice checked into the W Hotel in Miami Beach, checking her text messages again. Tom was in Atlanta and had been in Marvel meetings for most of the day. He was already at the airport, waiting for his flight into Miami. He had booked a room down the beach at the Mandarian Oriental for the night and they decided to meet up at his room there and then go to dinner.

  
Her stomach had been full of butterflies all day at the prospect of seeing Tom again. They had texted and Skyped with each other nearly every day since Chicago, but it was not nearly enough for Beatrice. She missed his smell, the way his solid form always felt so warm against hers, how his chest rumbled underneath her body when he laughed. Even though they kept up with how the other was doing, she missed just talking and laughing with him - those quiet moments they had in New York together, just holding each other in the dark, murmuring their dreams and fears to each other.

  
She had about two hours until Tom came in, so she decided to unpack and take a quick nap in her ultra-comfy hotel bed before she had to get ready to meet Tom.

  
Her phone alarm went off about a half-hour later, and she swung her legs over the side of the bed, stretching her arms. Bea was thankful that she was one of those people that could nap pretty much anywhere, and especially with being on planes most days out of the year, being able to sleep at will was definitely a life-saver. She crossed the bedroom, entering the modern white marble bathroom and turned on the shower.

  
After she had showered, shaved, and blown out her locks into loose waves, she applied some neutral eyeshadow and a little bronzer on her cheekbones to just add a little pop of sun-kissed glow. As she was swiping on some soft pink lipstick, she heard her phone ping.

** _T: JUST LANDED, LOVE. LET’S PLAN TO MEET IN MY ROOM - #412 - IN 20 MINUTES._ **

** _B: SOUNDS GOOD, I’M JUST FINISHING GETTING READY._ **

** _T: NOW I’M IMAGINING YOU PERFORMING YOUR ABLUTIONS IN NOTHING BUT YOUR UNDERTHINGS - PLEASE TAKE YOUR _** **_TIME SO I CAN  
IMAGINE A BIT LONGER ;)_ **

  
Beatrice smiled. Tom didn’t know how right he was. Underneath her fluffy, white hotel robe was a new set of lacy emerald green and black lingerie she told herself wasn’t for Tom when she bought it, but was absolutely, totally bought just for Tom.

  
She finished her makeup and moved to the mirrored closet, taking out a lightweight, vivid green wrap dress, dotted with tropical white flowers. It was perfect for the warm Miami weather, as the fabric breathed nicely against her skin, and it had asymmetrical hem that swished against her legs and her thighs when she moved. Slipping on some gold, high-heeled sandals, she checked the time again on her phone and realized she was running a little behind. She grabbed her purse and key card and headed downstairs.

  
A short Lyft ride later, she pulled up in front of the Mandarin Oriental, her stomach fluttering in anticipation. She couldn’t wait to be enclosed in the strong cage of his arms, enveloped in the scent and feel of him. Since Chicago, she had been thinking of Jenna’s words. Maybe Tom and her could find a way to be together. Even though they both traveled so much, it perhaps was that common factor that could make a relationship actually work for both of them. While Marcus begrudged Bea’s endless travel schedule, Tom could relate and wasn’t trying to force her to stay still for him. He understood the demands of a job like that as his was similar in that respect. 

  
Beatrice made her way down the hall on the fourth floor, checking the door numbers the entire way. She reached the end of the hall, standing in front of 412, which was a suite, natch. She took a deep, trembling breath, willing herself to calm down, and knocked on the door.

  
A few long seconds later, the door flew open and before she knew it, she was lifted off the ground in a crushing embrace, being hauled into the room. She buried her face into Tom’s neck, inhaling his wonderful scent, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. He felt so good, so right against her. She felt him press his lips against her neck, kissing her softly and nuzzling his nose into its curve.

  
“Oh, my Bea,” he whispered against her skin. “I missed you.”

  
She smiled, feeling tears spring to her eyes when she heard the emotion in his voice.

  
“I missed you too.”

  
He pulled back from her slightly, his arms still tight around her waist and her feet dangling slightly off the floor, his soft blue eyes searching hers as he brushed her hair back with a large hand, placing a long, gentle kiss on her lips.

  
“You look incredible, little one.”

  
Beatrice smiled, letting out a soft sigh as he finally set her down, but still keeping his hands around her waist. She reached up and touched his cheek, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and fatigue he wore in his face. He looked like he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in at least a week.

  
“You’re wearing yourself out,” she said, giving him a concerned look, her thumb stroking his face lightly.

  
He gave her a tired smile, gently taking her hand from his face, kissing her palm and holding it back up to his cheek.

  
“My Bea - always looking out for me.”

  
“Well someone’s gotta,” she chuckled. “Though by what you’ve told me, your mom has been pretty vocal lately about your workload.”

  
Tom laughed. “Yeah, but when isn’t she?” he said, crossing the room to fetch a pair of caramel-colored leather oxfords. As he did, Beatrice was finally able to take him in fully. He was clad in a pale blue button-up dress shirt paired with light, blush-colored slacks (form-fitting of course). His auburn waves were tamed back with a little product. When she saw he was wearing some soft blue socks that were dotted with little gold Loki horns, she burst out laughing.

  
“Oh my God, those socks are amazing!”

  
He looked down, flexing his feet and laughing. “Oh yeah, got them as a gift from a fan a while back.”

  
While Tom put his shoes on, Beatrice went over to the silver mirrored dresser near the bed, taking in the toiletries he had placed there next to his worn, brown leather toiletry case: an electric travel razor, a black pot of Oribe styling paste, and a bottle of Armani Prive cologne. She picked up the bottle, taking the black, bean-shaped cap off, and brought it to her nose, inhaling deeply. 

_  
Oh yeah, that’s Tom, _she thought, suddenly feeling a surge of arousal course through her as she closed her eyes dreamily.

  
She heard Tom chuckle softly behind her, and a moment later, felt his hands come to rest on her shoulders. 

  
“Been missing my scent, love?” he whispered, bending down and gently kissing the sensitive spot behind her ear.

  
“I’ve been missing everything about you,” she said so quietly Tom almost didn’t hear her.

  
He turned her around, his hands gently resting on her hips, as his eyes roamed over her face, taking in the soft pink bow of her lips, the sweet dimple that always appeared on her left cheek when she smiled, and her impossibly huge green eyes that looked like the crystal-clear water he once saw off the coast of Vietnam. She was an angel - his angel. 

  
He brushed her thick waves back, caressing her cheek. “Me too, love,” he said. “I miss waking up having you in my arms, listening to your little snores.”

  
Beatrice slapped him playfully on his chest. “I do not snore!”

  
Tom laughed, kissing the tip of her nose. “Don’t worry, darling, it is the most adorable snore I’ve ever heard - like you’re a contented little cat.”

  
She giggled. “Well, this kitty is hungry - where are we going for dinner?”

  
Tom moved over to an armchair near the bed and grabbed his suit jacket, which matched his light, pink colored slacks, and as he stretched his long arms out to shrug himself into it, Beatrice couldn’t help but think he looked like a very sexy and debonair ice cream cone. 

  
“Well, if you’re game for it, there’s a wonderful seafood place right next to the ocean,” he said.

  
“Yeah, that sounds perfect,” she said as she watched him button his jacket and finally put his glasses on.

_  
Fuck, those glasses _. It was like when he put them on, it had a correlative effect on her lady bits, and she found herself involuntary clenching her thighs together. 

  
Tom seemed to notice this, and adjusted them on the bridge of his nose with a flourish, giving her a wink.

  
“C’mon, then little one,” he purred, placing his hand at her lower back as he ushered them out of his suite. “Let’s go whet that insatiable appetite of yours.”

******

  
A quick Lyft ride later, they pulled up to Scale, a lovely little seafood restaurant that sat right on the water. As the hostess walked them to their outdoor table, Beatrice took in the main dining area, awash in jeweled blue, purple, and green tones, giving the effect that you were deep in the heart of the ocean.

  
They were escorted outside to their patio seating, dotted with burning tiki torches, the soft chatter of diners mingling with the sounds of the ocean. The hostess sat them away in private corner, away from the main cluster of the diners outside. Tom, ever the gentleman, pulled Beatrice’s seat out for her before taking his own, and as she sat down, she took in the incredible view before them. They had hit the golden hour, the sun setting down into the Atlantic in a burst of warm golds, pinks, and reds. A soft warm breeze kissed Beatrice’s face, and she closed her eyes against it happily, taking in a deep breath of the wonderful salty air.

  
“Tom, this is absolutely breathtaking.”

  
“Not nearly compared to you,” Tom said, taking her hand across the table, lightly stroking it.

  
Their waiter appeared quickly, and Tom immediately ordered a bottle of extremely expensive champagne for them, despite Bea’s protests. They caught up with each other over a divine raw bar appetizer, complete with fresh Pemaquid oysters, king crab legs, and yellowtail ceviche. After the waiter re-appeared, they put in their dinner order, with Tom getting the swordfish special and Beatrice selecting the seared scallops.

  
“How’s work going?” Tom asked as he tucked into his dish.

  
“Good,” said Bea, as she cut into one of the delicate shellfish on her plate. “I head to Barcelona after Miami so I’m pretty excited.”

  
“Oh, I love Barcelona - what are you going to do there?”

  
“Well, I’m finally going to go to the Picasso museum there and am meeting up with some friends who are going to take me to this restaurant called Enigma.”

  
“Whoa, isn’t that place known for having a really long dinner?”

  
“Yeah, it’s over three hours and is almost 40 courses - they had to reserve it months in advance. They were lucky they got me in on the reservation at the last minute.”

  
“I swear Bea, you have friends in every corner of the world.”

  
She laughed. “Well, when you travel as much as I do, you meet lots of people. I’ve been lucky to meet some incredible ones.”

  
“Am I your friend, Bea?”

  
She looked at him, his eyes soft but furrowed slightly, like he was scared to ask it.

  
“Of course you are, Tom.”

  
“Am I more than a friend, Bea?” he asked softly.

  
Beatrice cleared her throat, feeling his gaze penetrate her. “Yes, I do think of you more than just a friend, Tom.”

  
“A lover?”

  
Beatrice blushed a little, suppressing a little smile. “Yes, definitely that.”

  
“Your boyfriend?”

  
Beatrice chuckled. “Somehow the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing sounds so weird once you hit 30 - ‘hi, this is my boyfriend Tom and he’s taking me to get a mammogram tomorrow.’”

  
Tom laughed, clutching at his chest as he doubled over.

  
“Okay, okay, fair enough,” he finally said, adjusting his glasses. “It does sound a little strange. What about your mate?”

  
She laughed. “What are we, wolves?”

  
Tom bared his teeth at her and growled, his eyes sparkling playfully and Beatrice let out a squeal of delight.

  
“Okay…” he said, his face growing serious again. “Your partner?”

  
Beatrice shifted in her seat. “Well, I guess that would depend if you also thought of me as your partner.”

  
Tom reached over and took her hand in his. “Bea, I need to tell you something.”

  
Beatrice instantly felt her pulse racing. _ Oh God, this was it, she thought. He’s fallen for someone else and wants to end this. _

  
“Okaaay…” she said, shakily. Her mouth suddenly felt parched.

  
Tom took a deep breath. “Bea, I’ve been thinking a lot about you - about us - these past few weeks. Whenever something good happens, you are the first person I want to tell. Whenever I’ve had a miserable day, the first thing I wish for is to see your smile, to hear your voice telling me everything’s going to be okay. When we parted ways in New York, I thought maybe my feelings about you would change or that yours might change about me, that the distance would maybe make the decision for us about our relationship. But, the more time we were separated, the more I found myself wanting you, _ needing _ you in my life. 

  
Beatrice just stared at him, feeling herself trembling under his hands. 

  
“Bea, I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I’ve realized that I want to be with you - only you. I don’t want anyone else. I know our careers won’t make it easy, but I don’t care about easy. I just want to be wherever you are. When I think about my future, it’s only with you in it. You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. I - I love you, Bea.”

  
It felt like an eternity had passed until Beatrice was able to find her voice again. 

  
“You do?” she squeaked out, her eyes wide with disbelief.

  
Tom nodded. He felt as though his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He didn’t know what Beatrice would say to his declaration, and he was terrified.

  
“I don’t expect you to say it back, Beatrice, and if you are seeing someone I totally understand -” he backpedaled, his nerves starting to get the better of him. 

  
“Tom -”

  
“I just had to tell you how I felt and if you don’t feel the same, it’s okay -”

  
“Tom!”

  
He looked up at her change of tone, but when he gazed upon her face, he was surprised to find her smiling sweetly at him. 

  
“I love you too.”

  
“Really?” 

  
Beatrice nodded, feeling tears spilling out of the corners of her eyes. “I didn’t want to fall in love with you,” she said, as Tom came over to her, squatting down in front of her with his hands clasped around hers. “You seemed like a comet - beautiful and wonderful and exciting, but something I couldn’t keep. I told myself not to fall in love again, that it would only hurt me, but I couldn’t stop myself. I want to be with you too, Tom - only you.”

  
Tom looked up at her, and she saw the relief and happiness as it washed over his face, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He brought her hands up to his lips kissing them over and over like he was afraid she was going to slip through his fingers. She loved him. Nothing else mattered now.

  
After their dinner, they walked down to a nearby pier that had small touristy shops along it, stopping at a little ice cream stand for dessert, with Tom getting a dark chocolate peanut butter cone and Bea getting the strawberry cheesecake in a cup. They strolled further down the long, wooden pier, Tom’s arm around her waist. Most of the crowds had cleared out for the evening, but a few couples and families were still taking in the warm Miami night. As they finished their ice cream, they heard someone playing guitar nearby and walked towards the sound. A young man, no more than 20 years old by the look of him, sat on a fold-out chair on the pier, playing guitar through a small, beat-up amp. In front of him was a guitar case with a small sign that read, “donations are good karma”, and Beatrice noticed a good number of bills were already in the velvet-lined case.

  
Tom walked up to him, taking his wallet out. Beatrice noticed he was talking to the young man, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. She did, however, see the fifty dollar bill Tom dropped into the case, as he walked back over to her with a smile.

  
“What did you say to him?” she asked.

  
Tom slipped his arm around her waist. “Just made a little request,” he said, looking into her eyes. Will you dance with me, my Bea?”

  
She suddenly heard the young man start into the opening chords of Neil Young's “Harvest Moon.”

  
“Oh, I love this song!” she exclaimed. “How did you know?”

  
“You told me in New York when we were lying in bed one morning,” Tom smiled. “Your mom and dad decided to renew their wedding vows when you were six, and you remembered them having their dance to this song. You thought they looked like something out of a fairytale and decided right then you were going to have that too.”

  
Beatrice felt tears gather in her eyes again. “I can’t believe you remembered that,” she said, overwhelmed with emotion. 

  
“I remember everything about you,” Tom whispered, gathering her close to him. “May I have this dance?”

  
Beatrice nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck as they began to move to the music.

_ Come a little bit closer  
_ _ Hear what I have to say  
_ _ Just like children sleepin'  
_ _ We could dream this night away _

_  
But there's a full moon risin'  
_ _ Let's go dancing in the light  
_ _ We know where the music's playin'  
_ _ Let's go out and feel the night _

  
Beatrice couldn’t believe how happy she was. It was such a perfect moment with the perfect man. A man who loved her, who only wanted to be with her, and who was willing to sacrifice whatever to make that happen. 

_  
But there's a full moon risin'  
_ _ Let's go dancing in the light  
_ _ We know where the music's playin'  
_ _ Let's go out and feel the night  
_ _ Because I'm still in love with you  
_ _ I want to see you dance again  
_ _ Because I'm still in love with you  
_ _ On this harvest moon _

  
She let the music and the love she felt for Tom wash over her as they moved together under the stars, her face nestled in the crook of his neck, his head resting on her shoulder, arms wrapped tight around her waist, his hand occasionally stroking softly down her back. Never had she felt so loved or so safe. 

_  
When we were strangers  
_ _ I watched you from afar  
_ _ When we were lovers  
_ _ I loved you with all my heart _

_  
But now it's gettin' late  
_ _ And the moon is climbin' high  
_ _ I want to celebrate  
_ _ See it shinin' in your eyes _

_  
Because I'm still in love with you  
_ _ I want to see you dance again  
_ _ Because I'm still in love with you  
_ _ On this harvest moon _

  
The song finally came to an end as they reluctantly pulled apart. Tom stroked Beatrice’s cheek softly, pulling her in for a long, achingly sweet kiss.

  
“I love you, my Bea.”

  
“I love you, Tom.”

*****

  
The ride back to Tom’s hotel they held hands the entire time, hardly letting a sliver of air between their bodies. Beatrice felt the shift between them after they had declared their love for each other and she had never felt happier. Tom was everything she ever wanted and everything she never knew she wanted, and knowing now that both of them were committed to making their relationship work gave her a sense of contentment and peace that seemed to want to burst from her chest.

  
Once they were up in Tom’s room, he made his way over to the bar on the far end of the room, shucking his suit jacket over a chair as he walked across the suite. 

  
“Love, do you want anything to drink? Wine? Water?” he called to Bea over his shoulder, his back to her.

  
“Tom?”

  
The way she practically purred his name made him turn around. She stood in front of him, clad in the most exquisite black and green bra and panty set, the color setting off her emerald eyes and dark hair to sheer perfection. Her creamy, peachy skin looked positively luminous in the moonlight that flooded through his bedroom windows and Tom couldn’t believe his luck that this ethereal goddess was really his.

  
He moved over to her, his hunger for her suddenly a raging fire he knew would never be able to be quenched. When he reached her, he stroked her bare arm, his eyes drinking in every inch of her.

  
“My Bea,” he whispered. “Beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe how stunning you are to me. I don’t know what I did to have you in my life but I do know that I am the luckiest man in the world.”

  
Beatrice looked up into his eyes and Tom saw the love that shone there. “I feel the same way.”

  
Tom gently cupped her jaw with his hand, pulling her forward into an ardent kiss, his other hand reaching up and grabbing the other side, holding her face in his hands as his lips plundered hers, and he positively moaned to feel her responsive lips against his again. He felt her hands move down to unbutton his shirt, her small, warm hands running underneath the fabric and over the hard plains of his chest and stomach. He let her push the garment off, temporarily separating their kiss, but then like a magnet, his lips were back on her, brushing over her cheek and moving down to her neck, planting soft kisses and licks as he nuzzled his nose into the heady, intoxicating scent of her. 

  
He felt her hands run up his back as he moved his own behind her, easily unhooking her bra, her gorgeous, generous breasts spilling out into his hands. He let out a groan as he looked down at the magnificent mounds of silky soft flesh, squeezing and palming them in pleasure before lowering his head to one, taking a tender nipple into his warm mouth. Beatrice gasped above him, her hands threading into his curls, gripping him as he sucked and nibbled on the erect bud. He grazed his teeth lightly over it, knowing how sensitive they were for Bea, and he smiled against her skin when he heard her let out a breathy moan. 

  
Tom finally broke away and quickly gathered her up in his arms, bridal-style, moving her over to the bed and setting her down on it reverently, her mahogany locks fanning around the pillow. He stood next to the bed, looking down on her. He could see her chest rising and falling rapidly, her lips parted and reddened from their kissing. Her eyes were dark and full of fire. 

  
Reaching his long arm out to her, he gently caressed her cheek.

  
“Let me take care of you tonight, Bea,” he said softly. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

  
Beatrice nodded, biting her lip.

  
Tom crawled onto the bed, hovering above her as he started to lick, kiss, and nibble her breasts down the soft plain of her stomach. She tasted like honey and vanilla and Tom wished he could bottle it - nothing tasted as good as his Bea did. He reached her panties, sliding them slowly down her legs until she was laid bare before his eyes. 

  
“Oh, my Bea,” he growled. “I’ll never get enough of the sight of you like this - skin all sweetly flushed from arousal, those perfect breasts heaving, nipples so responsive and hard for me, and of course, this perfect, delicious pussy.”

  
To emphasize his point, he gave a long, cat-like lick of her glistening lower lips, hearing Beatrice let out a high-pitched whine.

  
“God, you taste absolutely delectable, little one,” he growled, licking his lips. “So sweet and juicy.”

  
He bent his head back down, nuzzling his nose against her until her clit finally emerged from its hiding place.

  
“There you are, my love,” he purred. “How I adore this tender little clit - so responsive for her daddy.”

  
“Oh God, yes….” Beatrice moaned, as Tom began licking and sucking at the supple bud, his tongue circling her opening. He chuckled when he felt her opening constricting and expanding, desperate to be filled. He plunged his tongue inside her heat, feeling her hands fly to his hair, gripping at him fiercely. Tom brought his long digits into play, rubbing at her clit as his tongue thrusted and swirled in and out of her pussy.

  
“Does this feel good, my girl?”

  
“OhmygodyesTomdon’tstop!” 

  
Tom chuckled, and wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking and flicking as he thrust two fingers inside her molten heat.

  
“Fuuuuuuck!!”

  
He immediately felt her pussy constricting around his fingers like they were trying to pull him in further.

  
“God, baby you are soooo tight,” he moaned, watching his hand pump in and out of her. “Do you need to cum soon?”

  
Beatrice mewled, her hips canting desperately.

  
“I know it’s hard, little one, but you need to tell daddy what you need,” he cooed lovingly, one hand still pumping rhythmically in and out of her, while the index and middle fingers of his other hand rubbed her clit skillfully.

  
“Yes, please daddy I need to cum - oh god, that feel sooooo good!”

  
Tom smiled as he kept pumping, pressing tender kisses on the inside of her quivering thighs.

  
“Good girl,” he murmured. “I want you to cum for me my beautiful Bea - show me how I make you feel.”

  
He slipped a third finger inside her core, twisting his fingers to hit the spongy part inside her as he gave a hard suck of her clit. The result was instantaneous, as Bea screamed out his name, her back arching like she had been electrocuted. Tom hissed through his teeth as he saw a rush of slick pour out of her and onto his fingers.

  
Beatrice fell back against the pillow, limp. Her body covered in a glowing sheen of sweat, her head turned away from Tom. He felt her whole body trembling beneath his hand as he brought his hand up, licking it clean of her essence. _ Pure nirvana _, he thought. 

  
He suddenly heard a choked -up sound come from Beatrice and he immediately went up to her, gathering her in his arms and turning her towards him. Her bottom lip was trembling and there were tears in her eyes.

  
“Oh my love, are you okay? What’s wrong?” he said, his brows furrowed and anxious that he had hurt or upset her in some way.

  
He was surprised when a smile of pure happiness broke across her face.

  
“I had almost given up, Tom,” she sniffed, her eyes shining with love. “I thought, maybe I’m just one of those people who will never fall in love again, who will never find someone who loves me the way I deserve to be loved.”

  
Tom tenderly stroked her hair, his own throat tightening up with emotion.

  
“I thought, well, I’ll just have my work and I managed to convince myself that it would be enough for me,” she continued. “But then I met you on that plane and it’s like, you understood me in a way no one ever has and I’m so happy Tom. You make me so happy. I love you.”

  
Tom pulled her to him in a crushing embrace, kissing the top of her head. She loved him. He felt invincible, like he could do anything. This incredible angel loved him.

  
“Oh, my sweet girl, I love you too,” he whispered. “I was the same way - I had all but given up, but you have turned my world upside down in all the best ways possible. You made me believe that I could find love again. I’m so lucky to have found you.”

  
They crashed their mouths together passionately, Tom feeling his heart may just burst from the love he felt for this woman. Beatrice moved him onto his back, her thighs straddling his narrow waist. She moved her hands up to her breasts, squeezing them and rolling her nipples between her fingers as she let out a breathy moan. Tom looked up at her through lidded eyes, his jaw twitching slightly. She felt him hard and hot underneath her, and she started to slowly rub her still-soaked pussy up and down the length of him.

  
Tom let out a hiss, his hands gripping the soft flesh of her luscious curves. 

  
“Fuck, little one….” 

  
Beatrice smiled, continuing to move her hips back and forth, teasing her pussy lips over his cock. She continued to massage and fondle her tits, Tom biting his lip underneath her. Suddenly, she popped one of her breasts into her own mouth, licking and sucking ravenously on the nipple. Tom almost came right then and there.

  
“Holy shit, love - that is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen! I need to be in you NOW baby cause I’m gonna cum!”

  
Beatrice giggled and quickly positioned herself above Tom’s cock, which by now, was so red and engorged, it kept wanting to lie flat against his belly. She held it firmly in place as she lowered herself slowly down onto it, groaning as she felt every ridge and vein stretch her wide.

  
Tom moaned as she seated herself on his cock, her exquisite pussy like a tight wrap of hot silk around him. She started to move up and down on his length, the friction sending all his nerve endings on overload. Tom looked down at where they were connected, his swollen length slick with their combined arousal, the flushed lips of her pussy clinging like a second skin around him. He couldn’t imagine a more erotic sight. 

  
His hands gripped the plush globes of her ass as she moved faster up and down the length of him, her breasts bouncing enticingly with every plummet down onto his hilt.

  
“God, Tom you feel so good!” she moaned, balancing herself as she placed her hands back onto the tops of his thighs, her knees up and spread, feet planted on the bed, giving her more control of her thrusts.

  
Tom was nearing his breaking point, feeling the chords in his neck straining as he fought to delay his orgasm. He wanted his Bea to cum first. He moved up, grabbing her around the waist and rearing back on his heels, as he held her upright, assisting to continue to move her up and down on his cock. The sound of her ass slapping against his thighs filled the room, along with their breathy moans and whimpers.

  
“Daddy, I’m close!” Bea cried out, her hands scrambling to keep purchase of Tom’s shoulders for balance.

  
“Cum for me baby,” Tom gasped. “I want to watch you.”

  
He tucked his pelvis underneath himself more so each time he bottomed out, the angle would hit around where her A-spot was, and sure enough, on the fourth thrust, he felt her pussy squeezing around him like a boa constrictor, crying out his name as she arched and trembled violently. 

  
He moved over her, his cock still sliding in and out of her clenching pussy, the movement hurtling him towards his own orgasm.

  
“I want you to cum on me daddy,” Beatrice breathed, her eyes fluttering back open as she bit her lower lip seductively. 

  
“You sure, little one?” Tom panted, feeling himself right on the precipice.

  
“I want you to mark me,” she said, moving her hands up to squeeze her breasts together alluringly as she massaged them. “Show me I belong to you, daddy.”

  
Tom groaned at her words, pistoning his hips into her quickly. He felt his balls tighten against him, and when that tell-tale ticklish pressure hit him, he pulled out, going onto his knees above a prone Beatrice. He didn’t even need to stroke his cock as long, white ropes of cum instantly spurted in long jets from the head of his cock.

  
“FUUUUCK….MINE!” Tom roared, as he painted Bea’s tits and stomach with seemingly endless streams of cum.

  
He collapsed back on his heels, sweating and panting like he had just run 10 miles. He watched Bea beneath him, a contented smile on her face as she ran a finger through his spendings, bringing it up to her lips and sucking. Tom growled as he rubbed the rest of his essence into her skin, making sure she was thoroughly marked with his scent. The sheer primal nature of the act was absolutely intoxicating.

  
“ _ Mine _,” he whispered.

****

  
A little while later, after Tom had carefully cleaned them up, they sat up in bed, Bea nestled in the warm strength of Tom’s arms as they watched the latest episode of _ Succession _ on HBO. Tom couldn’t help but let out a long yawn, feeling his eyes start to get heavy.

  
Beatrice looked up at him and giggled. “Did I wear you out, Hiddleston?”

  
Tom grinned ruefully. “Love, that you did - I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard in my life.”

  
Beatrice pressed her lips together, trying to suppress her little satisfied smile. 

  
“When’s your flight back to Atlanta tomorrow?” she asked, snuggling closer to him.

  
Tom sighed. “Not until 2:00 pm, so at least I can sleep in with you.”

  
“Good, cause I want banana pancakes for breakfast.”

  
Tom chuckled. “Anything you want, love. When do you head out of Miami?”

  
Beatrice blew out a puff of air, trailing her fingers through the light spattering of his chest hair. 

  
“My flight to Barcelona isn’t until 6:30 pm.”

  
Tom nodded, threading his fingers through hers, bringing her hand up to his lips and placing a kiss on her knuckles.

  
“I’m heading back to London after Atlanta until I have to go to New York for the production.”

  
She looked up at him. “When do you think we can see each other?”

  
“I was just going to ask you the same thing.”

  
She sat up a bit, away from him, taking her long thick mane in one hand and sweeping it elegantly over her shoulder, moving it around so that it rested against her clavicle. Tom instantly felt his mouth start to water, and he started stroking along the peachy supple skin of her now exposed back.

  
“Well, to be honest, I was looking to maybe pay a visit to the London office after I get back from Iceland,” she said, tentatively, looking back at Tom over her shoulder.

  
His eyes shot up to hers, wide and expectant. “Really?”

  
“Yeah, well I don’t have anything after Iceland except to go home to LA for a little while, and thought instead I would go to the London office and possibly revisit their offer for a permanent position there.”

  
Tom felt a surge of excitement go through him at the prospect of his Bea staying in London permanently. He knew she’d still travel, and he was more than fine with that, but now she’d be in London for most of the year instead of on the road. 

  
“Listen, Bea,” he said, pulling her back to him and looking deep into her eyes. “I would be the happiest man in the world if you would stay in London with me, but I also want you to know that I’d still want to be with you any way I could if you decided you wanted to keep traveling. Part of why I love you is because of your passion for what you do, that you are true to who you are, that when people like Marcus tried to make you conform to what they wanted you to be for them, you don’t let them change you. You are a remarkable woman, Bea and I’m a lucky man to have you love me.”

  
Tom saw tears shining in her eyes and for a moment, grew concerned that something he had said upset her as she turned her head away.

  
“Oh, love - what’s wrong?”

  
She suddenly let out a squeal, pouncing on him and knocking him back flat on the bed as she proceeded to cover him with kisses, giggling with joy.

  
“How did I get so lucky?” she smiled as she straddled over him, her hands on either side of his head.

  
He chuckled, bringing his hand up to stroke her face. “I could ask the same thing.”

  
Beatrice proceeded to plunder his mouth and Tom heartily responded back, his tongue caressing her lush lower lip until she fully opened up to him. He chuckled softly as she quickly proceeded to move her mouth to the 90 degree angle of his jaw, slowly moving down to press licks and nips to the column of his throat. 

  
“You keep this up love, and we’ll never get any sleep.”

  
He suddenly felt her soft little velvet tongue trace the little cluster of freckles on the side of his neck, sucking hard and then laving her tongue over that spot. Tom couldn’t help but let out a low groan, feeling his cock start to stir again. She knew that was a sensitive spot for him.

  
“I’m counting on it,” she purred into his ear.

  
“My little insatiable minx,” he growled, flipping her over onto her back with a laugh.

  
They made love again, until they were both breathless and thoroughly exhausted. The last thing Tom remembered just before he fell into a dreamless sleep was the sound of the waves outside, crashing in the darkness, the woman he loved in the cradle of his arms.

*****

  
Beatrice woke up suddenly, a dream she had jolting her awake. She tried to remember what it was about, but just as quick as it had roused her, the details of it had vanished into the ether. She looked down next to her, Tom still soundly asleep. His mouth was slightly parted with his coppery curls a riot against the white pillow. Bea smiled, glad that he was getting some much-needed rest, even though she had the strong urge to wake him up for a morning romp. 

  
She reached for her phone, going through a few text messages and emails - thankfully, nothing important. Opening her Instagram for the first time in a few weeks, she decided to check back in with some of the Tom fan accounts and see if the hoopla around the picture of her and Tom in New York had finally died down. Doing a search of his “twhiddleston” tag, she noticed the same picture suddenly popping up, dominating the tag search.

  
It wasn’t of the two of them, but it was of Tom. It was a nighttime shot and looked as though it was outside on a London street next to a parked car. From the angle and distance it looked to likely be a pap or fan shot. Beatrice swallowed upon seeing the other person in the photo. It was his co-star from the play, Zawe. And he was kissing her. And it wasn’t a peck on the cheek kiss either.

  
Feeling her throat constricting, she silently got out of bed, Tom groaning slightly and stirring but not waking up. She quickly put on a robe and went out to the balcony, closing the door quietly behind her. 

  
She clicked on the caption for the picture, which had a link to a Daily Mirror article.

> **Is Hiddleston Cuddling Up To His New Co-Star?**
> 
> Has Tom Hiddleston finally moved on from his "I Heart Taylor" days? The dashing 38-year-old actor was seen Thursday night at The Harold Pinter Theatre in Westminster with his "Betrayal" co-star, Zawe Ashton on his arm.
> 
> The duo were attending a swanky fundraiser for the beloved West-End theatre, currently celebrating its 8th year with sold-out performances for "Betrayal," in which Hiddleston and Ashton portray husband and wife dealing with the trials of infidelity. 
> 
> "They arrived together and looked very affectionate all night," a party eye-witness told The Daily Mirror. "Tom was being very attentive - his hand resting on her back and talking into her ear a lot."
> 
> The pair were later seen leaving the party together, sharing a passionate kiss before the both of them sped off together in Hiddleston's Jaguar.
> 
> News of Hiddleston's suspected new romance comes after the star was most recently spotted in New York City a few weeks ago with a still-unidentified brunette.
> 
> Ashton, 35, is best known for her roles in Channel 4 comedy dramas "Not Safe for Work" and "Fresh Meat." Other credits include the feature films _ Blitz _ and _ St Trinian's 2: The Legend of Fritton's Gold _. 
> 
> Though this was the first public event the two attended together, recent speculation hints that the vertically-blessed co-stars have been dating quietly for the last few months, having grown close while working on "Betrayal."
> 
> Reps for both parties could not be reached for comment.

Beatrice put her phone down, feeling like she had just the wind knocked out of her, the words of the article ringing over and over in her ears: _ “have been dating quietly for the last few months”.....“sharing a passionate kiss”..... “both of them sped off together in Hiddleston’s Jaguar….” _ Did he sleep with her? Has he been sleeping with her this whole time? Was everything he said last night to her a lie?

_  
Oh God, this is Marcus all over again _.

  
She felt numb. Her instinct was to cry, to scream, to burst back into the room and start pummeling Tom in his perfect face, but it was like something was suddenly locked inside her, like a cold wave had washed over her body, anesthetizing her to everything. She drew in a deep, shaky breath, quietly opening the doors back to the bedroom, where Tom still slept.

*****

  
Tom finally stirred as the sunlight streamed through the windows, stretching his arms to reach out for Beatrice. But when he found nothing there, he opened his eyes, sitting upright.

  
“Bea?” he called out, figuring she may just be in the bathroom.

  
When she didn’t answer, he got up, pulling his boxers on and moved towards the bathroom. He pushed open the door but she wasn’t in there. He went over to the balcony doors and opened them, but there was no sign of her.

  
Tom looked around the bedroom, confused and slightly panicked when he realized all her stuff was gone. He checked around to see if she had left a note, having maybe gone down to get coffee or run a quick errand, but there was nothing.

  
Concerned, he picked up his phone, wondering if she might have texted or called him, but the only messages he saw were from Luke, yelling at him to get in touch right away.

  
Running a hand through his curls, he hit the call button and Luke picked up before the first ring even finished.

  
“Finally!” Luke said, sounding peeved. “Where the hell have you been?”

  
“Sorry I was sleeping,” he said. “Luke, I can’t find Bea - she’s missing.”

  
“What are you talking about?”

  
“We spent the night together after we told each other we loved each other and I woke up this morning and she’s gone - no note, nothing.”

  
“Wait - you told each other you loved each other?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
Tom heard Luke let out a long sigh on the other end. “Oh boy. Click on the link I sent you, man.”

  
“What does that have anything to -”

  
“Just do it, Tom.”

  
Tom sighed, clinking on the link to a Daily Mirror article. As it opened up, he let out a groan. There was a picture of him and Zawe and their “supposedly private” kiss splashed across his screen.

  
“Oh, bloody fucking hell, Luke,” he spat.

  
“Yeah, it’s everywhere, Tom,” Luke said.

  
“Wait - do you think Bea saw this?!” he said, his heart seizing up in his chest.

  
“Well, this just broke this morning,” he responded. “Was everything fine last night with you guys?”

  
Tom felt like he was falling. “Yeah, it was great - better than great. We said we loved each other, we made love. We were making plans to see each other again.” 

_  
Did I really just say “we WERE making plans?” _

  
“And she’s just suddenly gone this morning with no note?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“I’m guessing she saw it, man,” Luke said sadly.

  
“Fuck, Luke this can’t be happening,” Tom rasped, fear gripping him. “I can’t lose Bea over this.”

  
“Well, why the hell did you kiss Zawe anyway if you were seeing Bea?”

  
Tom sighed, dropping down onto the bed. “It was nothing, Luke.” he said, attempting to explain. “Yes, I asked Zawe to come with me to the fundraiser, but only because I was getting scared of how strong my feelings for Bea were. I figured since me and Bea were still supposedly ‘casual’ I would ask Zawe as a way to keep that casual distance. But I was an idiot, Luke. When we left the party, Zawe kissed me, and yes, I admit I didn’t exactly push her away, but it felt all wrong. It was that moment that I realized I had been trying to protect myself, to not let myself love again because I had been hurt in the past. But I found myself not being able to stop loving Bea and I knew that no matter what, I was going to try and be with her.”

  
“So you didn’t sleep with Zawe?”

  
“Of course not!” Tom said angrily. “I explained to her about Bea and that I thought it was best if we just stayed friends and colleagues and she was wonderful and graceful about the whole thing. I just drove her home, that’s it.”

  
“Jesus, Tom you have really fucked up this time.”

  
“I know,” he whispered, dropping his head into his hands. 

  
“Well, if you really love Bea and want to be with her, you need to talk to her and be prepared for her anger and hurt.”

  
“I’ll do anything, Luke,” he sniffed, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to overtake him. “I deserve her anger, and I will do whatever it takes to get her back. I love her. She’s the only woman for me.”

  
Luke sighed. “Okay, do you know where she was supposed to go after Miami?”

  
“Uh, Barcelona and then Iceland.”

  
“When is her flight to Barcelona?”

  
“6:30 tonight.”

  
“Well, she may still be in Miami somewhere. Call her hotel and see if she’s still there.”

  
“Okay,” Tom said, now working to get a pair of jeans on, prepared to go get Bea if he had to search all over Miami for her.

  
“If it works for you, I’m going to put out a statement saying that rumors of a romantic relationship with Zawe are false, and that the both of you remain committed to your work and to a platonic friendship only. I’ll call Zawe’s rep and see if she’s on board as well. It will look better if you guys laugh this off as play on your character’s relationship in the production.”

  
“Do whatever, Luke, I trust you.”

  
“It’ll be okay, man - just give her some time.”

  
“Thanks.”

  
Tom hung up and immediately called Bea’s hotel.

  
“W Hotel Miami front desk - how may I help you?” answered a perky-sounding woman.

  
“I’m looking for a guest at your hotel,” Tom said, pacing the room. “Beatrice Clark. I believe she was in room 202.”

  
Tom faintly heard the clacking of computer keys in the background. “Uh yes, Ms. Clark was in that room but she has checked out.”

  
“Do you have any idea where she was going?”

  
“I’m sorry sir, even if I did, I can’t give out private information about our guests.”

  
“Yes, yes of course,” Tom muttered. “Thank you.”

  
He hung up, sliding down to the floor, his back against the side of the bed. He brought his knees up, resting his arms on top of them, suddenly feeling disgusted with himself. How did things get so screwed up so fast? Tom knew he only had himself to blame and that if he hadn’t been so scared about getting hurt himself he wouldn’t have hurt Bea. Now he may have lost her forever.

  
He opened up his text messages and typed out one to Bea.

**T: PLEASE TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE, BEA.   
** **I JUST WANT TO KNOW YOU’RE OK.**

And another.

**T: I LOVE YOU, BEA. I KNOW THAT PIC IS AWFUL   
** **AND I HAVE NO EXCUSE, BUT I WOULD LIKE   
** **TO TRY AND EXPLAIN.**

  
He couldn’t stop.

**  
T: WHAT I DID WAS REPREHENSIBLE AND I AM SO SORRY. ** **YOU DON’T HAVE TO TALK TO ME, BUT JUST TEXT ME ** **SOMETHING - ANYTHING - SO I AT  
LEAST KNOW THAT YOU ARE OKAY. ** **I’M WORRIED AND SCARED THAT YOU ARE HURT OR SOMETHING. **

  
He sat on the floor, his head slumped. When his phone finally rang, he had the elated hope that it was Bea finally calling him, until he looked at the screen and saw it was Luke again.

  
“Hey, Luke what’s up?” he said, his voice small. 

  
“Hey Tom - okay, so I was able to get some info as to where Bea might be from her coworker Phoebe at Lonely Planet.”

  
“Really?” Tom said, sitting up.

  
“I had to convince her to talk to me. She knew about you guys in New York but didn’t know who you were specifically until I told her. She wouldn’t give much away since apparently she also saw the pictures this morning online and also wanted me to tell you that you are a - quote - ‘scumbag.’”

  
Tom huffed ruefully. “Fair enough -what _did_ she say?”

  
“She said Bea is boarding a flight to Barcelona in 10 minutes. After that, she knows she’s going to Iceland but that’s it.”

  
Tom groaned. “Fuck.”

  
“I’m sorry man,” Luke said. “Look, if you love her don’t give up. She’s going to need some time to cool down.”

  
“Yeah, thanks man.”

  
He hung up and stood in the middle of the room, his shoulders slumped defeatedly. All of a sudden, his phone pinged with a text message. He sucked in his breath. It was from Bea.

**  
B: TOM, PLEASE DON’T CONTACT ME ANYMORE.**

  
The damn inside him finally broke as he quietly sobbed. His Bea was really gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ouch, I know - hang in there, guys, the story isn't over yet. Also a few notes:
> 
> **One, I make no claim to know Zawe and I'm definitely not going to comment on the recent speculation as to whether her and Tom are a couple. It's none of my business nor anyone else's. She seems outwardly to be a perfectly lovely woman and the portrayal of her and Tom's relationship in this story is purely for dramatic purposes only.
> 
> **Two, if you have not listened to Neil Young's "Harvest Moon," I strongly urge you to! It's absolutely beautiful and one of my all-time favorites. Harvest Moon lyrics copyright Neil Young (1992). 
> 
> **Three, the restaurant Enigma that is mentioned in Barcelona is a real place and it consists of several rooms that diners "taste" through, taking up to 3 1/2 hours to complete - it is super hard to get into and looks banoonies-crazy good.


	7. Pitch & Roll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beatrice heads to Iceland and Tom...well, Tom is miserable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the late posting! I'm working on these chapters as fast as I can. Sorry to say, no smutty goodness in this one, but just hang in there, it will be coming back. I don't feel like this is the strongest chapter, but I'm trying to transition into the next part of the story, so please bear with me.
> 
> As always, the picture collage for this chapter can be found at my Flickr page here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/184448556@N07/48953351392/in/dateposted-public/

Beatrice’s Volkswagen Golf rumbled down the rocky dirt road to Hekla’s house. Craggy cliffs kissed with soft green moss surrounded her on both sides of the road, and she rolled down the window, breathing in the familiar, country air. 

  
She had her Google Maps open on her phone, but she wasn’t sure how well it would work in this part of Iceland, so she tried to keep in mind Hekla’s directions she texted to her earlier: “_ from the airport take the 40 south towards Hafnarfjordur until it becomes the 41, then after 17 miles, turn left to go west on 42 - when you see the white fence with the angry black goat behind it, turn right and drive until you reach the house. _”

  
After she had left Tom in Miami, Beatrice felt numb. She had gone to Barcelona but found herself sleep-walking through her days there. She kept up with appearances for her job, and taking pictures for her Instagram and Twitter feeds, but none of the places she photographed included herself in any of them. She couldn’t bring herself to fake a smile and she knew she looked drawn and worn out. She also knew Tom followed her on both social platforms too and didn’t want to encourage him in any way to reach out to her. Even though she couldn’t bring herself to delete his info from her phone just yet, she did block his text messages when they wouldn’t stop. Even then, initially, that hadn’t deterred him. When she was in Barcelona, he had somehow found out where she was staying and had sent a bouquet of about fifty blush pink peonies (her favorite) to her room, with a note that said: 

_ I am so sorry. I miss you.   
_ _\- Yours forever, Tom._

  
She ended up bringing the arrangement down to the front desk of the hotel and told them they could have them. All she knew was that she didn’t want them. They were too painful to look at. Even at her dinner at Enigma with her friends Isabella and Elana, the server had come over to them with their most expensive bottle of champagne and said it was for them with, “most sincere compliments and regrets from Mr. Hiddleston.” Beatrice adamantly refused it, and when the server explained that it had already been paid for, she told him that she wished for him and any of the waitstaff working that night to enjoy it after their shift, adding an icy “with compliments from Mr. Hiddleston” at the end.

  
As mad and as hurt as Beatrice was at Tom, she found it strange that she still hadn’t cried. It was like her body had gone into lock-down and nothing could get in or out. She spoke with her boss at Lonely Planet before she left for Iceland and said that she’d still complete her last assignment there, but that after that, she needed some time off indefinitely. Since she never took vacation time for herself, they were more than understanding and said to just keep them posted when she was ready to come back.

  
She decided to use the time and stay in Iceland with her mom’s best friend, Hekla, who was like a second mother to Beatrice. Hekla owned a sheep and goat farm about 30 miles south of the capital of Reykjavik, but it may have well as been the other side of the world. The home that she shared with her husband Pétur, was in an isolated pocket of the town of Hafnarfjordur, which is best known for the Viking festival thrown there every year. Their farm sat on 15 acres of the most beautiful land Beatrice had ever seen, surrounded by green hills and volcanic rock cliffs. There was even a small waterfall there. Hekla was overjoyed when Beatrice called and asked if she could come stay with her for awhile, as the last time she had been there was at least five years ago. 

  
“Is your mother coming too?” she asked Beatrice over the phone.

  
“No, mom’s too busy right now, so it’ll be just me,” she said, not wanting to get into the details of her and Tom’s split.

  
“Well, that’s wonderful! I already have the guest room ready for you, and we have plenty of that coffee you like from Kaffismiðja Íslands too - oh, and Dunna made you a new sweater from this spring’s wool.”

  
Beatrice smiled through the receiver. “You guys always spoil me - I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay with you. I really need a break.”

  
Hekla chuckled. “No trouble at all, my _ Hjarta _ (heart) - you will come and relax, visit with us, maybe do some day trips. Whatever you want.”

  
Beatrice finally came upon a long white fence along the road, with groups of newly-shorn sheep dotting the verdant hills behind it. Further behind it, she could spot the waterfall and already was chomping at the bit to go up to it. Sure enough, near the end of the fence, she spotted a very gruff-looking, old black goat, and promptly took the following turn to head up to Hekla’s house.

  
After driving a ways up a winding and bumpy road, her heart soared to see Hekla’s house up on the hill. It was a modern-looking farmhouse in the Scandinavian style, with pale wood planks making up the entire outside and plenty of windows that looked down onto the valley below. Thickets of pale purple and blue lupine circled the property, making it look like something out of a fairy tale. As she pulled up to their driveway, Hekla’s Icelandic sheepdog, Odin, bounded out of the house, with Hekla right behind him. Dogs as pets have been banned in Iceland since the 1920’s, but because Odin was a working dog, Hekla and Pétur were able to have him with special permits.

  
Beatrice quickly put the car into park and practically bolted out of the car towards Hekla. Odin jumped up on her first, barking excitedly as Hekla finally reached her, wrapping her in a fierce hug. Beatrice felt her chest constrict as she hugged her back, burying her face in the warm lily scent of Hekla’s perfume. It felt like home. 

  
“My _ Hjarta _, it is so good to see you,” Hekla said, her warm, tanned face breaking out in a brilliant smile. Hekla was not what you would typically think an Icelandic woman looked like. She was perpetually tan, with dark, reddish brown hair cut in a short, asymmetrical style, with the friendliest hazel eyes Beatrice had ever seen. She exuded warmth, love and wisdom and instantly Bea felt comforted by her presence. 

  
“Oh, it’s so good to see you too, Hekla,” Bea said, finally pulling away. “You look amazing!”

  
“Well the sheep keep me on my toes,” Hekla said laughing. “It’s better than yoga. Well, come, you must be exhausted from your trip. Let’s get you settled in.”

  
Beatrice grabbed her suitcase from the car, Odin sniffing around her with great interest the whole time. Hekla put her arm around her as they walked up the stairs to the house.

  
Beatrice let out a deep breath once she entered, starting to feel some of the stress and fatigue of the past few days melt away a bit. Hekla’s house was always like a sanctuary to her since she was a little girl. Hekla and her mom had quickly become best friends after meeting at a childbirth class when Bea’s parents were living in Iceland. At the time, her dad was in the Navy and they were stationed in Keflavik, with her mom expecting Bea. Hekla was also expecting her first child, and her and Bea’s mom instantly bonded over their impending new motherhood, as well as their witty sense of humor, and pragmatic sensibilities.

  
She let Hekla lead her down the hallway, taking in all the framed family pictures that hung on the walls along the way. She spotted one from many years ago of Hekla and her family with a young Bea and her mom and dad somewhere in front of a geyser. In the background, you can see the geyser exploding and the picture captured the exact moment everyone screamed in startled joy as they started to run away. Bea smiled. 

  
Hekla opened a door at the end of the hall and ushered Bea inside.

  
The guest room was small, but warm and comfortable, with a white iron framed queen sized bed, topped with a fluffy white down comforter and the softest-looking handmade blankets Bea had ever seen. Against the wall of one corner sat a small pine dresser with an oil lamp on top, as well as a few worn books about Norse mythology and viking history, and a neat pile of fresh guest towels for her to use. Straight ahead as she entered the room was a window seat, with a few embroidered throw pillows on top, the frame of which was surrounded by cocoa-colored curtains with a soft cream and gray flower vine pattern on them.

  
“The curtains are blackout ones, so you don’t have to worry about the sun coming through in the middle of the night,” Hekla explained, opening them up so that they could view the valley of the farm below them. “We’re heading into our Midnight Sun time of year, so right now we are getting about 18 hours, but pretty soon we’ll have 20-22 hours of it until August.”

  
Beatrice moved to set her suitcase on the bed, testing the firmness of it as she did. She knew she was going to sleep well on it. 

  
“It may take a few days to get used to it,” Hekla continued. “So the best thing I can suggest is to set a sleep schedule for yourself and try and stick to it. Otherwise, you’ll be wide awake every night at 2am.”

  
“Yeah, I definitely don’t want that,” said Beatrice. “I haven’t been sleeping so well as it is.”

  
Hekla gave her a sympathetic smile. “Well, why don’t you take a hot bath while I finish up with the sheep and then you can help me get dinner ready.”

  
“Sounds perfect, thank you.”

  
Hekla moved towards the door. “There’s some of that oil blend that Dunna makes in the bathroom - very good for relieving stress.”

  
She gave her a little wink and closed the door behind her. Beatrice let out a sigh, moving over to the window. Outside, she could see Pétur rounding up the sheep with Odin close behind him. She turned back towards her suitcase, unzipping it and taking out her toiletry case. Spotting a robe on a hook behind her door, she quickly undressed and put it on, grabbing her case and ducking out into the hall. The guest bathroom was right next door to her room, and as she opened it up, she spotted the most beautiful deep copper bathtub sitting there. She went over to the sink, spotting the bath oil blend that Hekla told her to use. It was in a dark brown bottle and simply had the words: _ lavender, clary sage, chamomile _ written on it. She uncorked the top, and inhaled softly, letting out a little sigh at the soothing scent.

  
She moved over to the tub, turning on the hot faucet first to see how it fared. In a matter of a few seconds, the temperature of the water was nearly boiling hot, so she turned the cold temp on a little to balance it out. 

_  
Thank God for Icelanders and their geothermal heating, _ she thought. 

  
As her bath ran, she poured in a little of the oil blend in - the scent of which acted with the hot water and created a lovely perfumed steam in the room. Bea shucked off her robe and finally turned the faucets off when the tub was full. Slipping in, she let out an audible groan of pleasure, instantly feeling the tightness in her shoulders and muscles ooze into a puddle of warm goo. From her view in the tub, she could see out of the window, with nothing but green hills and rocky cliffs for miles and miles. She needed this. She needed to get away from everything right now. Tom’s betrayal had reopened a deep wound that had started with Marcus, and was actually even more painful that that had been. At least with Marcus, she knew what his issues were. His cheating had been a surprise, but if she was honest with herself, not that big of one. There were clues and red flags that she saw but didn’t want to admit. But not with Tom. They had both clicked so well, were so compatible. He was attentive and caring and so open. Not like Marcus. It seemed like Tom was genuinely in love with her, and she definitely loved him. Or she had, anyway.

  
_Of course, he IS an actor _ , she thought bitterly. _ They make their whole living off of being convincing liars._

  
And from what Bea had seen of Tom’s acting, he was one of the best ones around. 

  
Still, sitting in that gorgeous tub, with an even more gorgeous view, some part of her couldn’t help but wish that Tom was there with her, and that somehow made her even angrier. She hated how much she missed him, that he had made her believe in love again, that he made her believe she could trust again. She dunked down, submerging herself in the tub, the dark water silencing the sound of her screams.

*****

A little while later, freshly scrubbed and screamed out, Beatrice made her way to the kitchen, where Hekla was dancing around to Fleetwood Mac as she washed potatoes. Odin sat in his bed near the pot bellied stove in the corner. She turned and saw Beatrice standing and let out a laugh.

  
“You caught me!” she said, a little breathless, her eyes sparkling with merriment. “I always have to have Fleetwood Mac playing when I cook.”

  
Beatrice smiled, wrapping the cream, cable knit cardigan she had thrown on around her even tighter. “I remember - I think I must have heard ‘Gypsy’ at least a hundred times when I was a kid.”

  
Hekla laughed, placing the cleaned potatoes in a colander and setting it on the worn wood table. 

  
“Should I peel?” Beatrice asked, as she pulled out a chair.

  
“Yes, thank you _ Hjarta _,” she said, placing a peeler in front of Beatrice and turning her attention back to the stove. “How was your bath?”

  
“Heavenly - I’m taking your bathtub home with me when I leave, by the way.”

  
Hekla chuckled. “Well, if you can get it through customs, it’s yours.”

  
They both worked in silence for a few moments, the song changing over to “Silver Springs.”

  
“So, _ Hjarta _, who is he?”

  
Bea’s head shot up. “He who?”

  
Hekla gave a small, sad little smile, turning to face her as she placed the roast she had just dressed into the oven. 

  
“The one who broke your heart.”

  
Beatrice swallowed thickly, setting her peeler down, as Hekla moved over to her, pulling out the chair next to her and settling into it.

  
“Who was he to you, my _ Hjarta _?”

  
Beatrice took in a deep shuddering breath, looking down at her hands. “Someone who I thought loved me...who I loved.”

  
Hekla took Bea’s hands in her own, rubbing her knuckles slightly with her thumbs. She had always loved Hekla’s hands- they were rough from years of manual labor and three daughters, but they were warm and comforting and held so many years of wisdom and experience in the lines and cracks.

  
“I met him when I was in New York,” Bea continued. “He’s an actor. We spent a few days together there and it was incredible. He was so sweet and caring, funny, and insanely intelligent without being pompous. I felt _ seen _, you know? Like this was the person who understood and loved me the way I always wanted to be loved.”

  
Hekla was silent as she listened to Bea, watching her intently as she occasionally stroked or gently squeezed her hand.

  
“We decided to try and make a go of it, even with our crazy work schedules because we didn’t want anyone else, we had fallen in love with each other. He came to see me when I was in Miami and the morning after we had told each we loved each other, I found out he had cheated on me with the co-star of his play.”

  
Beatrice took a shaky breath. There was a long beat before Hekla finally spoke.

  
“How did you find that out?”

  
Bea sighed heavily. “There was an article in a British tabloid and there was a picture that left very little room for interpretation.”

  
Hekla squeezed her hand, looking into her eyes warmly. “I am so sorry, _ Hjarta _,” she said. “That must have been so painful to see.”

  
“I just don’t get it,” she said, finally feeling some of the emotions she had been wrestling with internally start to break loose. “Why didn’t he tell me about any of this? He had so much time to say something and he didn’t. That’s what hurts the most. He knew he had kissed this woman and decided not to tell me.”

  
Hekla sighed. “Well - and I am just playing, how do you say? - advocate of the devil here - but, maybe it wasn’t anything significant to him. A mistake. And he didn’t want to upset you over something that was a one-time bad decision.”

  
“But still,” Bea said. “It was something big that he kept from me. How can I trust him again?”

  
Hekla sat back, looking at Bea seriously. “I can’t answer that for you, _ Hjarta _, but let me tell you this - pictures only tell part of the story. Yes, he can’t deny that he kissed that woman, but behind that kiss is something more that you don’t even know about.”

  
“I don’t think I want to know.”

  
“Have you talked to him at all about this?”

  
Beatrice shook her head, looking down at her hands again. “No - I just left Miami without telling him. He kept texting me wanting to explain but I told him not to contact me anymore.”

  
“And has he honored that request?”

  
Beatrice sighed. “I don’t know. I blocked his notifications after he sent me flowers and champagne in Spain.”

  
Hekla’s eyebrows raised. “Well, it sounds like he’s trying to reach out and apologize at least.”

  
Beatrice huffed. “Or just trying to assuage his guilt more likely.”

  
Hekla gave a sympathetic smile. “You have a lot to work through _ Hjarta _, and I certainly don’t envy you that. But I am glad you are taking the time to work through everything here with us. You do what you need to do. And in the meantime, have some fun!”

  
Beatrice smiled, reaching out and giving Hekla a big hug. “Thank you so much, and you are right - I need to have some fun.”

  
Hekla slapped Beatrice’s knee and stood up, going over to the oven to check on the roast. “Of course you do dear,” she said, adjusting the pan inside and closing the door again. “The Viking Festival is in a few weeks and that’s always so much fun. Dunna’s going to have her craft tent there.”

  
“Yeah, that sounds great!”

  
“You’ll see, by the time you go back to LA, you’ll have forgotten about old ‘what-is-his name,’” Hekla said, turning back to the stove to boil water.

  
“Yeah,” Beatrice responded hollowly, as she resumed peeling her potatoes, a sour feeling suddenly pooling in the pit of her stomach.

  
*****

  
Tom sat in the empty Pinter theater after the evening performance, staring at the stage from the fifth row. He used to like sitting in the theater after a performance, digesting the response from the audience and brainstorming tweaks and variations to incorporate for the next show, but he couldn’t think about any of that. All he could think about was Bea. 

  
Miserable didn’t even begin to describe how he felt ever since Bea left him in Miami. He had tried to reach out to her in Spain, but neither his flowers nor the champagne he sent for her dinner at Enigma received a response. He had sent several texts, and left voicemails, but there was no response to those either. So, he decided the best thing he could probably do for her was to respect her wishes and not contact her anymore. If he had any chance at all at getting her back, being an overbearing stalker was not going to help his case.

  
Still, he wanted nothing more in the world to be able to hear her voice again, to see her smile, to hear her laugh. He could still remember how good she felt in his arms, how right it felt, and now with her gone, it was as if a part of him was cut away, leaving an empty space. If he thought he felt awful after things with Taylor ended, Bea leaving him was a thousand times worse. He realized now that his love for Taylor was an illusion - something he thought was real but never really was. He never really was in love with her. He realized now he’d only ever loved one woman. And now she was gone too. And he felt broken beyond repair.

  
“Hey! There you are, man.”

  
Tom turned, quickly brushing away the tears that had spilled over and clearing his throat.

  
“Hey, Charlie,” he said, hastily flashing a slightly too-wide grin as his co-star walked over to his seat.

  
Charlie flashed him a skeptical smile as he came next to Tom, sitting down on the top of the seat in front of him. 

  
“You left the stage door signing so quick tonight - are you okay?”

  
Tom ran a hand through his curls, letting out a rueful laugh. “Um, yeah, no mate, not really.”

  
Charlie crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down at Tom. “I had a feeling,” he said. “Does it have anything to do with that girl you were photographed with in New York?”

  
Tom nodded bitterly. “Yeah - she saw that picture of me and Zawe and rightfully got pissed. Now she won’t answer any of my calls and texts.”

  
“So you didn’t tell her about Zawe kissing you before she saw that picture?”

  
Tom cradled his head in his hands, grunting derisively. “No, and believe me, I am kicking myself over that one.”

  
He suddenly raised his head to look at Charlie, his eyes shining and face open with despair. “I should have, I know I should have, man - but Zawe is only a friend nothing more and it wasn’t ever going to be more. I thought if I said something, it would only cause her unnecessary pain, but I realized I was only trying to spare myself.”

  
Charlie sighed, nodding in agreement.

  
“You know Zawe is seeing that producer friend of hers now.”

  
Tom gave a contrite smile. “Glad to hear - she deserves someone special.”

  
“So what are you going to do about this girl?”

  
Tom leaned back, stretching his arms above him, his eyes wild with hurt and confusion. “I don’t know, Charlie - I honestly don’t. I love this girl. I love her more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life, and I just feel lost now without her. Even the work doesn’t feel satisfying and that has never happened to me.”

  
Charlie chuckled softly. “Yeah, that’s for sure - though I have to say, ever since she left you, you are bringing another level of emotion to Robert that I haven’t seen in any of your previous performances.”

  
Tom grumbled. “I don’t care about that - all I can think about when I’m on stage is her, when I’m walking Bobby, when I’m alone in bed at night, when I’m surrounded by people - all I can think of is Bea.”

  
Charlie suddenly clapped his hands together. “All right, that settles it,” he announced, pushing off of the seat until he stood fully in front of Tom. “Me and few guy friends are heading to the pub the next block over and you’re coming with.”

  
“No, man I don’t feel up to it,” Tom said, shaking his head and putting his hands up in front of him.

  
“No arguing, Tom,” Charlie said, slapping his hand down on Tom’s shoulder. “You need to blow off steam and get your mind off of her, if only for a few hours. C’mon, just come for two drinks. What better do you have planned for tonight? You going to sit in front of the stage just staring and moping all night?”

Tom sighed heavily, looking up at Charlie’s hopeful face. _ Fuck, he’s right - I do need to let off some steam. _

  
“Alright, alright,” Tom acquiesced. “Two drinks and that’s it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the kind of abrupt end to this chapter - part of this story I have planned and part I'm honestly just winging, so thanks for the kind words!


	8. Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beatrice goes to the Viking Festival and Tom goes off the deep end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay everyone! Between working full time and apparently being incapable of writing short chapters, this one took a little while! Thanks for the over 3K hits - so awesome!
> 
> While there is no smut in this chapter again (boo, I know - I don't like it either), it will be returning very soon. For those of you who wondering, I did used to live in Iceland many years ago and love writing about the culture and the people. If you've never been, it's absolutely worth a visit (yes, there is a real-life Hekla and yes, the Icelandic people do LOVE their coffee).
> 
> Once again, the photo collage for this chapter can be found at my Flickr page here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/184448556@N07/49086482908/in/dateposted-public/

The next few weeks at Hekla’s were some of the most restorative Beatrice had had in a long time. After catching up on some much needed sleep for the first few days, she had eventually gotten into a daily routine of getting up early with Hekla and Petur to help feed the sheep and goats, as well as help out with general chores around the farm. Hekla tried to shoo her away, saying she didn’t need to earn her keep to stay with them, but Beatrice insisted. She genuinely liked tending to the animals, especially the sheep, and had developed a particular fondness for a little black and gray lamb named Loki, of all things. Seemed no matter where she went in the world, she couldn’t escape Tom.

  
Normally, after a few weeks in one place, Beatrice would be itching to get back on the road, but this time felt different. She wasn’t sure if it was due to her bruised psyche or her conversation with Tom in New York about the job offer, but there was something reassuring about having a routine and roots in a place for longer than two weeks. Seeing Hekla and Petur at the farm gave her a glimpse into a life path she hadn’t realized she wanted to travel down before. They had a family and a home and love, but still traveled and retained their identities as individuals, as well as a couple. They still had freedom and adventures, despite being in the same place for almost 40 years. The idea was appealing. The problem was, Beatrice couldn’t picture doing it with anyone other than Tom.

  
One afternoon, Beatrice was closing up the sheep enclosure when she saw Hekla walking towards her. She took her work gloves off, stuffing them into her lightweight, insulated jacket. 

  
“The gang all set for the day?” Hekla asked as she approached, smiling widely as she surveyed the fluffy group behind the fence, who were now smacking and snorting as they ate their mixture of hay and something Hekla called “green chop.”

  
“Yep,” Beatrice sighed happily, throwing her thick braid over one shoulder. “Hungry little buggers too.”

  
“You still up to go to the Viking Festival today? Petur and I were going to head out to the fairground in a little bit.”

  
“Yeah sounds great!”

  
Hekla smiled. “Wonderful! I’m going to check to see if Petur is finishing up with the goats and then we can head out.”

  
“Okay - I’ll just run up to the house real quick and freshen up. I’ve got sheep slobber and dirt all over me,” Beatrice laughed.

  
Hekla laughed and Beatrice took off towards the house to get ready.

*****

  
Thirty minutes later, Beatrice, Hekla, Petur, and Odin were packed into Hekla’s old Volvo, heading towards the festival. Beatrice had hurriedly washed her face and hands, not bothering with makeup apart from some mascara and some natural lip gloss. She changed into some fresh jeans and brown leather hiking boots, and slipped on an olive-colored, long-sleeved shirt and a warm fleece vest.

  
The car finally rolled into the large fairgrounds, and Beatrice looked around excitedly, seeing many people walking around in Viking costumes or sporting war-paint designs on their faces. They parked the car and got out, and Beatrice was instantly hit with the smoky fragrance of roasting meat.

  
They walked into the main thoroughfare, craft and food tents surrounding them on either side. There were vendors with spits of roasting lamb, giant foamy cups of lager and rich, dark, coffee that people clasped their hands reverently around. Tents offering rune readings, handmade jewelry, Viking hair-braiding (yep, it’s a thing), and authentic period armor drew groups of interested attendees to them in droves.

“Wow, this is amazing!” she said as she walked next to Hekla, her eyes quickly going wide as she spotted a fighting demonstration between two guys swinging giant axes at each other.

  
“Yeah, it’s the biggest festival in all of Iceland,” Hekla said, as she watched Odin pull Petur along eagerly. “Dunna does her tent here every year and always does well - ooh, here she is!”

  
The group came upon Dunna’s tent, and Beatrice immediately spotted her as she shot up from her seat behind her display table and came around to greet them. Dunna was practically the polar opposite of her mother, looks-wise. She had classic Scandanvian features: long, blonde hair that looked like corn silk, bright, pale blue eyes and fair skin with a dusting of freckles across her nose and the apples of her cheeks. She looked like the Swiss Miss girl all grown up.

  
“Yay! You’re here!” she squealed, immediately running over to Beatrice and grabbing her in a crushing hug. “I’m so glad you made it!”

  
Beatrice laughed, as Dunna finally released her. “Me too - this is amazing!” she said, looking around at the wares she was offering in her tent. “Did you make all of this?”

  
Dunna let out a chuckle, putting her hands on her hips. “Yep, all of it - the oil blends and teas I make and sell all week at the shop and the sweaters I work on when I have the wool from mom and dad. Oh! Speaking of -”

  
Beatrice watched as Dunna went behind her display table and fumbled around in a large plastic container.

  
“Aha! Knew I brought it!” she finally exclaimed, bringing up a gorgeous fawn-colored cardigan sweater, with an intricate, swooping design in shades of white, chocolate brown, and dark mahogany that reached across the chest and shoulders.

  
“Oh….” Beatrice breathed as Dunna held it out to her. “It’s beautiful!”

  
“Good, because I made it for you,” Dunna said, as Beatrice slipped it on. “It may be a little on the loose side, but thought it would be safe to make it too big than too small.”

  
“No, it’s perfect,” Bea said, wrapping the exquisitely soft garment around her. “I love it!”

  
“Great!”

  
“Do you have any more of that oil blend that you gave to your mom?” Bea asked as she surveyed the bottles Dunna had out on display. “I swear that stuff does the trick for relieving stress.”

  
Dunna’s face lit up. “Oh yeah! That’s one of my favorites - I have a bottle right here.”

  
She handed the dark brown bottle over to Beatrice, who promptly took her wallet out.

  
“Oh please, no Beatrice - no charge. You’re family.”

  
Bea shook her head adamantly. “No, no I insist - especially since I feel horrible about practically using up your mom’s bottle at the house.”

  
Dunna laughed and finally let Beatrice pay for the oil. They all stayed and chatted with her for a bit until her tent started to get busy with interested customers, and then said they’d meet up with Dunna later for dinner. As Bea, Hekla, Petur, and Odin walked through the festival, Bea felt more like herself than she had in weeks. They briefly watched an archery demonstration and wandered through more of the vendor tents, with Beatrice buying a beautiful woven leather bracelet from a funky little jewelry seller. For lunch, they stopped at a little fish and chips stand, washing the delicious food down with a wonderfully tart hard cider and then made their way over to the stables, where judges were finishing their final picks for the best Icelandic horses at the festival.

  
They settled on some wooden bleachers set up for the event, as the final three horses were presented for the final judging. There was a beautiful palomino one, as well as a roan and chestnut that were in the running for the top prize. The palomino’s handler was a tall, broad-chested young man, who looked like some kind of Viking lumberjack to Beatrice. After the judges finished their deliberations, they ultimately awarded first place to the lumberjack’s palomino. 

  
“Oh, wonderful - I just knew Gunnar would take it,” said Petur, clapping along with the crowd as the young man smiled, shaking the judges hands. 

  
“Let’s go say hi to him,” Hekla suddenly piped up. “We can introduce him to Beatrice.”

  
She nudged Bea with her arm, giving her a mischievous wink. 

  
“Very subtle, Hekla,” Beatrice chuckled.

  
They walked over to the stables, where the lumberjack was settling his first-place horse back in its stall. He turned around and immediately flashed a huge smile at seeing Hekla and Petur.

  
“Ah! I wondered if I would see you guys here!” he said, moving to give Hekla a hug and Petur a warm handshake. Seeing him close up, Beatrice was struck by how cordial and friendly his face was. He had a full, dark brown beard that matched his rather stylishly-coiffed brown hair, warm hazel eyes, and a brilliantly white smile that looked like it belonged in a mouthwash commercial. Initially, his size and frame came off as rather intimidating, but his actual disposition seemed more teddy bear than bouncer to Bea.

  
His eyes soon traveled over to her, a small smile playing on his lips. “I don’t believe we’ve met before,” he said, offering her a very large hand. “I’m Gunnar.”

  
Beatrice gave a polite smile back, “Hi, I’m Beatrice,” she said, shaking his hand, her own immediately swallowed up in the rather beefy and rough appendage. She had to admit, they were warm though.

  
“It’s very nice to meet you, Beatrice,” he said, looking into her eyes as he gently but firmly shook her hand.

  
“Beatrice has been a family friend for many years,” Hekla said, slightly nudging her forward, closer to Gunnar. “She’s staying for us for a little while.”

  
“Ah, excellent,” Gunnar nodded, his nearly amber-colored eyes not leaving Beatrice’s. “Well, I hope these guys have been showing you the sights.”

  
Beatrice chuckled nervously. “Yes, they’ve just been wonderful to me - I’ve been doing little day trips here and there, so I’ve got almost all of my Iceland bucket list done except for one thing.”

  
Gunnar crossed his muscular arms across his chest and Bea had to stop herself from gawking. The guy was BUILT. He looked like one of those Instagram guys who hauled bags of sand and pulled tree logs apart with his bare hands as his “workout,” and ate foot-tall stacks of pancakes on his once-a-week cheat day.

  
He looked down at Bea in amusement. “So what’s the one thing you haven’t got to do yet?”

  
“See the Northern Lights.”

  
Gunnar chuckled warmly. “Well, that’s an easy one - we can take care of that this weekend. Threngsli isn’t too far from here and it’s one of the best places to see them. How about I take you up on Saturday?”

  
“Oh...um...well…” Beatrice stammered.

  
“That sounds wonderful!” Hekla chimed in, poking Bea in the ribs and flashing her eyes wide at her as if to say,  _ are you crazy girl - say yes! _

  
Gunnar gave a nervous smile, rubbing his beard. “If you don’t want to or have other plans, I understand -”

  
“Oh, no I don’t - I’d love to go,” Beatrice blurted out, seeing his face fall slightly at the prospect of her turning him down. 

  
His face instantly brightened, and he rocked back and forth on his work-booted heels. “Great! So, I’ll come by the house Saturday around six?”

  
“Sure,” she said, flushing slightly.

  
Hekla and Petur shared a conspiratorial look, and after a beat, Hekla turned towards Bea and Gunnar.

  
“Sounds like a plan to me,” she said, clasping her hands onto Bea’s shoulders. “Gunnar we will see you at the house on Saturday…sorry to run off, but we need to get ready to meet up with Dunna for dinner in a little while.”

  
Gunnar nodded. “Of course - it was great seeing you guys.” He turned back to Bea and flashed her an affable smile, as he took her hand in his again. “Beatrice - it was especially nice to meet you.” He bent down and softly kissed the back of her hand. 

  
“Hey, let’s get a group picture before we leave!” Petur suggested. 

  
“Wonderful idea - we have to get the first-place winner in there!” Hekla suggested. “Beatrice, let’s take it with your phone since it’s got the best camera.”

  
Beatrice rolled her eyes at her, smirking. “I know what you’re doing, woman,” she whispered lowly into her ear as Hekla arranged them in a group.

  
“Yes! Wonderful idea to post it to your Instagram, Beatrice!” Hekla said loudly, smiling broadly the whole time. 

_   
I’m gonna kill that sweet, meddling woman. _

  
Hekla shoved Gunnar next to Beatrice, as they pulled in close, with Beatrice bringing up the camera on her phone and putting it into selfie mode. She felt Gunnar slip his arm around her waist respectfully,not too low and not too tightly. Just enough to feel the warmth and inherit strength in those arms, and she hated to admit it felt nice. She swallowed thickly and placed the phone out at arms length to get everyone in the shot.

  
“Okay, everyone say skál ( _ cheers _ )!” she said.

  
“Skál!”

  
They took the picture and said their goodbyes again to Gunnar, who gave Beatrice a last warm and flirty little smile as they headed back towards the main thoroughfare. Beatrice looked at the picture and was surprised to see how she looked compared to a few weeks ago. The bags under her eyes were gone and the smile on her face was genuine and happy. She looked and felt more like herself. She did admit it felt a little strange accepting a date with Gunnar, but she told herself if Tom could go on a date while he was with Bea than she sure as hell could do it now that they were broken up. She felt like she needed to do it to help get over Tom.

  
Beatrice opened up her Instagram, which she had been avoiding for a while. She realized that Tom might see the picture but she didn’t care. She couldn’t hide forever. She hit the post button, feeling a weight being lifted and then ran to catch up with Hekla and Petur.  


*****

Tom grunted as he woke to the sound of banging on his front door. He had passed out, face-down and fully clothed on his bed. He groaned as his head throbbed painfully. His eyes felt like sandpaper when he blinked and it tasted like some kind of small animal had died in his mouth. He couldn’t remember a lot about the previous night, except that he had gone out with a few guy friends as he had been doing for the last few weeks in a row now. He remembered many beers and shots passed around, but after that it was a blank. He just wanted to dull the pain, to forget about her.

_   
That picture. That picture did me in. _

  
He had seen the picture that Bea had posted in Iceland. Tom immediately felt his heart soar to see her face again, but that was instantly replaced with fury when he saw the good-looking guy next to her, holding her close to him. The guy looked like he could give Hemsworth a run for his money in the brawn and looks department. When he saw Bea’s face, it felt like a knife in his heart. She looked...happy.

_   
Of course...why wouldn’t she be? She didn’t have someone like me messing up her life anymore. _

  
Tom wanted nothing more than for Bea to be happy, but he wanted to be the one putting that smile on his face, and the thought of another guy possibly being responsible for that smile left a hollow feeling in his stomach. 

_   
You have no one to blame but yourself, Tom. _

  
The banging continued downstairs and he finally rolled over to his back.

  
“Alright already! I’m bloody coming!” he shouted angrily, making his way painfully to his feet, trying to tame down his hair, which was plastered to one side of his head. His head thudded dully as he made his way downstairs.

  
“C’mon Tom, open up you lush!” shouted someone from the other side of the door.

  
Tom rubbed his head as he realized who was behind the door. 

  
“Benedict is that you?” he said, looking at the security monitor next to the entryway.

  
Benedict turned to the camera, putting his face up against it. 

  
“Yes, it is you lanky fuckwit, now open up.”

  
Tom groaned as he unbolted the door. Benedict blew past him, dressed in a light peacoat and faded jeans. His hair was on the shorter side than it had been in a while, and his face was set in a stony, but purposeful expression. 

  
“Please by all means come in,” Tom said acerbically, as Benedict quickly walked into the kitchen, as he proceeded to start rummaging through Tom’s cupboards. 

  
“Thomas, where is your coffee?” he asked crisply, as he moved cans and tins around in his pantry.

  
Tom took a seat at one of the barstools at his kitchen island, rubbing his face with his hands. “Top left next to the stove,” he sighed heavily.

  
“Ah, eureka!” Benedict finally pronounced, moving over to Tom’s coffee maker and beginning to prep a pot.

  
“So, to what do I owe the honor of this unannounced coffee-making visit?” Tom said dryly, definitely not in the mood for whatever Ben was playing at.

  
“Oh, not much really,” Ben said airily, pouring the coffee beans into the grinder Tom kept on the counter. “Just wanted to check and see if you hadn’t recently sustained perhaps a small head injury or had your brain exposed to some kind of nuclear radiation.”

  
“And why is that pray tell is that?” Tom asked wearily, resting his face in the palms of his hands and groaning aloud when Ben fired up the grinder.

  
Ben smiled evilly as he pulsed the grinder even faster, finally taking mercy on Tom after a few seconds after Tom moaned pitifully, crossing his arms on the island and dropping his head on top of them.

  
“Because I can’t think of any other reason as to why my friend has decided to become a human distillery over the past few weeks like some kind of frat boy gone off the deep end.”

  
“Ah, fuck off Ben,” Tom mumbled grumpily through his folded arms, his face still hidden.

  
Ben moved over to the island as the coffee started brewing behind him. 

  
“I’m not joking Tom,” he said sternly, resting his hands on top of the cool marble. “All you’ve done since you saw that picture is go out on the razz every night and get pissed. You’re missing appointments, which is something I never thought I’d utter in regards to you, and your work is suffering.”

  
Tom raised his head. “Hey, I’ve never missed a performance,” he said defensively.

  
“Yes, but it hardly gives the audience any comfort when their leading man is up on stage with a hangover, looking and sounding like death warmed up.”

  
Tom looked down, his face wounded.

  
Ben moved over closer to Tom, his face softening slightly.

  
“Listen, I know you’re in love with her,” he said, gently. “I know you’re in pain. But what do you think all this wallowing is going to do? Bring her back?”

  
Tom sighed, his eyes bleary and red with gathering tears and sleep deprivation.

  
“I don’t know what to do, Ben. She’s the woman meant for me and I know I can be the man she deserves. I want to be the man she deserves. I’m just worried she’s done with me forever.”

  
Ben sighed, resting his elbows on the island and clasping his hands in front of him. He looked at Tom solemnly.

  
“She may very well be, but continuing the way that you are will not change that,” he said, his voice low and even. “But if there is a chance that she still loves you, and if you truly want to be the man she deserves, then you need to prove it to her and to yourself.”

  
Tom pressed his lips together tightly, nodding slightly. 

  
“Fight for her Tom, don’t just roll over and die. No matter how angry she may be with you, I don’t think she would want this for you.”

  
Tom sighed. He turned his head, catching a glimpse of himself in the glass of the French doors that separated the kitchen from the living room. He nearly gasped. His hair was wild and disheveled, his beard shaggy, his features looked more sunken and sallow, and his eyes were bloodshot and vacant-looking. It was shocking. Ben was right, he couldn’t continue like this. He was better than this self-loathing and frankly juvenile behavior. And though he didn’t want to admit it to Ben, it really was affecting his work. He needed to be better, for both himself and for Bea.

  
“As usual, you are right, Ben,” Tom said, smiling softly at his friend.

  
“Yes, I know,” Ben said dryly, pushing himself back up to standing position. “It’s exhausting being an endless font of wisdom.”

  
Tom chuckled. “Okay  _ ‘font’  _ \- think I’m ready for that coffee now.”

  
Ben winked at him. “Coming up.”

  
He turned back to the coffee maker, preparing two mugs for him and Tom. As he did, Tom took out his phone, opening up his Twitter account for the first time in awhile. He took a deep breath as he typed, hoping somehow, someway, Bea might see it.

*****

Beatrice was surprised at the butterflies in her stomach as she got ready for her date with Gunnar.

_   
Wait? Was this a date? _

  
For some reason, the idea of it being a date made her stomach feel sour. She ran a brush through her thick, shiny locks and threw her new cardigan over her white, v-neck t-shirt. As she was lacing up her brown leather boots, she heard Hekla call out from the living room.

  
“ _ Hjarta _ ! Gunnar is here!”

  
She took one last look in the mirror and blew out a deep breath before walking out. When she stepped into the living room, Gunnar turned to her and smiled, and she had to admit, he looked pretty incredible. A charcoal gray sweater hugged his impressive frame, and he had the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. For the first time, Bea noticed a sleeve of intricate Nordic tattoos circling around his forearms. He had dark jeans and a worn pair of chocolate brown work boots on.

  
He stepped towards her, wrapping an arm gently around her in a warm half-embrace as he lightly brushed his lips against her cheek in greeting. She immediately felt herself blush as he pulled away. 

  
“Lovely to see you - you look beautiful,” he said. 

  
Beatrice smiled. “Thanks, you look good too.”

  
“So, are you ready to go see the lights?”

  
“Yep!”

  
“You guys have fun!” Hekla said, grinning mischievously as Gunnar led Bea out of the house, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. They approached his truck, and as he opened the passenger door for her, she noticed a pile of blankets and a small cooler in the back. 

  
"It gets pretty cold over there even this time of year, so thought the blankets might be useful,” Gunner said, noticing her checking them out. “Plus, I thought it couldn’t hurt to bring some food along.”

  
“Thanks,” she said, smiling at him as he closed the door behind her. 

  
The ride took a little while, and along the way they chatted a bit about their lives. Beatrice found out that Gunnar sometimes helped Hekla and Petur out at the farm and had known them since he was a teenager. He grew up on a horse ranch that his parents owned, but now that they had both passed away, he had taken it over with his younger brother. He was also recently divorced, having married his high school sweetheart 10 years ago. Beatrice found him very easy to talk to.

  
Eventually, they pulled off to a little clearing and Bea could see mountains in the distance. Gunnar turned to her.

  
“Bea, I know you don’t know me, but will you trust me for the next few minutes?”

  
Bea looked at him skeptically.

  
“Why? What are you going to do?”

  
He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a red bandanna.

  
“Well, I kinda need to blindfold you,” he said, sounding a little embarrassed.

  
Bea smirked. “A little forward for a first date, don’t you think?”

  
Gunnar chuckled, turning red and Bea relaxed. 

  
“Okay, I’ll let you, but the minute you give me something long and cylindrical to hold, I’m outta here,” she joshed, not being able to resist teasing him a bit more.

  
He shook his head laughing, as he reached forward and tied the bandanna gently around her eyes, adjusting it a little as he did.

  
“Comfortable?” he asked.

  
“Yes, thanks.”

  
“Okay, will be right back,” said Gunnar, and she heard the side of his door open. Beatrice could hear him shuffling and moving things around in the bed of the truck and she tried to figure out what he was doing. A few minutes later, she heard the side of her door open, and felt the rush of chilly air hit her. She reached out her hands clumsily until she felt the warm roughness of Gunnar’s hand tenderly take hers. 

  
“I’ve got you,” he said softly, as Bea stepped down out of the truck. She felt her feet touch the ground and then Gunnar’s strapping arm wrap around her. 

  
“Just take it slow, I’ll guide you,” he said, his breath warm against her ear, making her shiver slightly. 

  
They walked around the truck until finally Gunnar stopped her. 

  
“We’re going to climb up now okay?” he said. “I’ll help you.”

  
“O-okay,” Bea stuttered. 

  
Suddenly, she felt Gunnar lift her easily by the waist and she squealed in surprise as she felt her feet land against metal with a soft thud. She realized she was now standing in the bed of the truck. She felt the vehicle move slightly as Gunnar got in and clasped her hand again. 

  
“It’s okay, I got you,” he said. “We’re going to sit down now.”

  
Beatrice sat down shakily and instantly felt soft cushioning underneath her. She felt Gunner settle beside her and she let out a little surprised squeak as she felt him wrap a soft blanket around her. 

  
“I’m going to take the blindfold off now.”

  
She felt him loosen the knot at the back of her head and blinked as her eyes re-adjusted, letting out a breathy “wow” when she took in the sight before her. 

  
The inky sky sparkled with stars, and cutting through its vast panorama were brilliant green lines glowing like some kind of ghostly ectoplasm. The landscape around them was silent, the tops of the hills and mountains in the distance lit by the incredible natural event in a kind of otherworldly chartreuse hue. It was eerily beautiful.

  
“This is incredible, Gunnar,” Beatrice whispered in awe. “Thank you.”

  
He smiled. “Of course, I am happy to do it. Everyone who comes to Iceland needs to see these at least once in their lives.”

  
They settled into the back of his truck, wrapped in a pile of soft blankets as they watched the lights, talked, and ate. Gunnar had packed and assortment of cheese, homemade rye bread, nuts, and buttery green olives that were absolutely delicious. He opened up a large thermos of hot apple cider and they both sat, shoulder to shoulder as they drank and chatted.

  
“I hope you don’t think this is rude of me, but can I ask why you got divorced?” Bea said, taking a bit of bread topped with wonderfully tangy Irish cheddar. 

  
Gunnar took a deep breath but didn’t look distressed or angry. 

  
“Honestly? Because I cheated on her.”

  
Beatrice looked at him sharply, feeling her stomach drop.

  
_ Jesus, was every guy in her life a fucking cheater? _

  
“Why did you do that?” she asked, a little more bluntly than she normally would have.

  
Gunnar didn’t seem to notice as he rubbed his beard thoughtfully.

  
“Because I was young and unhappy,” he said. “It doesn’t excuse what I did, I know. We met in high school and got way too serious too fast. I don’t think both of us were ready for what marriage really was. She’s a wonderful woman and I’ll always regret what I did. I essentially ruined a relationship I really cared about for something temporary.”

  
Bea looked down at her mug. “Did you want her back?”

  
“Oh yeah,” Gunnar said without hesitation. “Even though I don’t think we should have been married, I still loved her and cared about her. But after I cheated, she didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. It was the most painful feeling in the world, and I would have given everything to have her back, but I understood why she needed to do it.”

  
“Didn’t you have feelings for the other woman?” Bea asked, the conversation feeling weirdly close to home.

  
“No,” Gunnar said. “I knew she was just a way to deflect the issues in my marriage. I was feeling insecure, and like an idiot I looked for validation through someone else. It’s not my proudest moment but I’ve definitely learned a lot from it.”

  
Beatrice nodded, appreciating his blunt honesty with her. 

  
“So, who was the guy who cheated on you?” he asked, turning to her.

  
“Wha-what do you mean?”

  
Gunnar chuckled softly. “I mean, it’s kind of obvious,” he said. “Your whole demeanor towards me changed when I told you I cheated.”

  
Beatrice sighed, scooching her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. 

  
“I don’t know,” she said defeatedly. “I loved him and he told me he loved me too, but then I saw a picture of him kissing another woman online - he’s kind of a celebrity.”

  
Gunnar’s eyebrows raised. “Whoa, that’s rough.”

  
“Part of me just feels like it would be easier just to never see him again, to just cut him completely out of my life, which - so far - I have.”

  
“And how do you feel?”

  
Beatrice sniffed, feeling herself choking up. “Horrible. I hate so much that he did this to me, but at the same time I miss him in my life. I just don’t know how I can trust him again.”

  
Gunnar nodded. “Yeah, that’s the hardest thing to repair. My wife and I had other issues to contend with besides my cheating, but once I had broken that trust, that was it for her. But here’s the thing: trust can sometimes be broken beyond repair, but if both people are truly invested in making things work and are committed to the relationship, sometimes it can be mended. It takes time, and it’s a gamble that it can even be repaired, but it can happen.”

  
“I don’t know…”

  
“Has he ever done anything to make you not trust him before this all happened?”

  
Beatrice shook her head, picking at a thread on the blanket wrapped around her. “No, he was great - open and honest, caring. We just clicked. He was so unlike my ex fiancee, who just wanted to control me.”

  
“Why did you break up with that guy?”

  
Beatrice raised an eyebrow. “Because he was cheating on me for months with one of his co-workers.”

  
Gunnar let out a deep breath. “Wow, no wonder.”

  
She looked at him curiously. “No wonder what?”

  
“No wonder you’re so upset with this guy. You feel like history is repeating itself.”

  
Bea turned to face him, looking slightly offended.

  
“Just hear me out,” he said, holding his hands up in a gesture of appeasement. “Yes, this guy did a dumb thing and kissed another woman. No excuse for that. But, at least from what you’ve told me, there’s really no other reason to sever this guy out of your life forever. Yes, he broke your trust, but the bigger issue is that when he kissed that woman, it was like getting cheated on by your ex all over again. He kissed someone, but to you, it was like he slept with another woman, so all of those old feelings came up again.”

  
Beatrice swallowed thickly, feeling like a golf ball got stuck in her throat. Holy shit, was that why she was so angry?

  
“Listen, Beatrice, I know I don’t know you and I don’t know your relationship with this guy, but I do know what it’s like to be on his side. And if he loves you as much as you seem to love him, he is in hell right now. Ultimately, it’s up to you to decide if he is worth trusting with your heart again. He can’t decide that for you - it has to be you. But, don’t punish him for the mistakes of another.”

  
And that’s what did it. After weeks of being unable to shed even a tear over what happened with her and Tom, she felt the dam inside her finally break loose. The tears were now rolling down her cheeks, and Gunnar slipped his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug as she sobbed against him. He held her close as she cried for a while, rubbing her back gently in a gesture that was more comforting than sexual. When she was finally all cried out, she pulled away slightly, but not breaking Gunnar’s hold on her. 

  
“So, guess this is officially the worst first date ever, huh?” she chuckled ruefully. 

  
Gunnar shook his head with a grin. “Not at all, Beatrice, and in fact, I must confess I’d like to see you again in distinctly not-just-friends way, though I think there’s another guy at the head of the line who’s already got your heart.”

  
Beatrice pulled him in again for a fierce hug, kissing him on the cheek. “I can’t thank you enough for everything, Gunnar, and I know you’re going to find a wonderful woman who knows what a good guy you really are.”

  
Later that night, Beatrice laid back in her bed, finding it hard to sleep. She felt more clarity on the whole situation with Tom after her talk with Gunnar, but was scared that perhaps she may have scared Tom off completely. What if he had moved on? She had silenced his texts and muted him on Instagram and Twitter, so maybe he had finally gotten the hint. She picked up her phone and went to her text messages, taking the block off of Tom’s number. Instantly, her phone started pinging with unread texts from him.

  
Some were apologies:

**T: My Bea, I’m so sorry for what I’ve done.   
** **I just hope you are okay wherever you are.**

Some were snippets of his days:

**T: Took my niece to the zoo today and she got so excited when we walked past the otter exhibit. I remembered that you told me they were your favorite animal and that they have a “favorite rock” they always carry with them to break open shellfish with. I picked you up a little stuffed one. It’ll be here waiting for you whenever.**

  
Some were poems:

**T: The songs I have not sung to you  
** **Will wake me in the night  
** **And hover in the dark like birds  
** **Whose wings are tipped with light.**

** _-Jessie Belle Rittenhouse_ **

  
Bea cried softly, astonished at how many there were. Though most of them were ones apologizing for his actions, she couldn’t help but notice how many were just ones sharing small details about his day or how he was feeling, as though he was making little wishes down a well he wasn’t sure would ever grant him one.

  
She finally went to her Twitter account and un-muted him. Though she knew he didn’t post on there very much, she saw one that he posted just yesterday. Her heart soared as she read the words:

**Tom Hiddleston @twhiddleston · April 9  
** Song of the Day: "Harvest Moon" by Neil Young. For Bea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why, but I just love writing Benedict as a sassy, foul-mouthed diva! :D


	9. Gaining Altitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea and Tom are finally reunited. But will the reunion be a happy one?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, we are getting near the end of Tom and Bea's story - only one chapter left! This has been so much fun to write and I already have another idea for another future Tom story (which will definitely be waaayyyy more smutty than this :). Thank you for all your comments and kudos - they are very much appreciated!
> 
> As usual, the picture collage for this chapter can be found at my Flickr page here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/184448556@N07/49168027128/in/dateposted-public/

Tom returned back to his dressing room at the Pinter Theater after another round of autograph signing at the stage door. Bobby was waiting patiently for him in his little corner bean bag bed, his tail wagging excitedly as Tom came in.

“Hey, good boy,” Tom said, bending down and petting his head. “Yes, we can go home now.”

The last month hadn’t been easy, but Tom had finally gotten his act together, focusing again on his work and well-being. He had hoped that maybe one day Bea and him could at least be friends again, but he realized he couldn’t continue to hold out for something that may never happen. All he could do was to put his heart and soul back into his work and to his mental health. He knew that’s what Bea would want and it was what he had to do to move on.

He had stopped going out with his bar buddies and threw himself back into his role in Betrayal, even garnering a prestigious theatre award for his portrayal of Robert. He was also seeing a therapist, which was already helping him immensely on his relationship issues.

Tom threw his jacket on, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, before bending back down to Bobby and clicking his leash on. Everyone else had already left and the backstage area was dark, with the exception of the dim glow coming from the deco-style wall sconces against the far wall.

He walked out onto the stage, looking out at the empty theater. Stopping for a moment, he thought back on one of his scenes from tonight, which he was toying with modifying slightly in the delivery. It was a scene between him and Jerry after Robert discovers the affair. He suddenly got an idea.

“Sit, Bobby,” he said, and the spaniel instantly complied. “Good boy, now stay.”

Tom moved over a few feet, positioning himself where he would be in on the stage in that particular scene, with Bobby filling in for Jerry. He took a deep breath and began.

“Well, to be brutally honest, we wouldn’t actually want a woman around, would we, Jerry? I mean a game of squash isn’t simply a game of squash, it’s rather more than that. You see, first there’s the game. And then there’s the shower. And then there’s the pint. And then there’s lunch. After all, you’ve been at it. You’ve had your battle. What you want is your pint and your lunch. You really don’t want a woman buying you lunch. You don’t actually want a woman within a mile of the place, any of the places, really. You don’t want her in the squash court, you don’t want her in the shower, or the pub, or the restaurant. You see, at lunch you want to talk about squash, or cricket, or books, or even women, with your friend, and be able to warm to your theme without fear of improper interruption. That’s what it’s all about.”

He finished, the silence of the theater finally settling back in around him.

“What do you think, Bobby? Better?”

All of a sudden, Tom heard clapping coming from the back of the theater. He squinted slightly, as the stage spotlight was shining directly on him. He vaguely saw a figure walking down the center aisle towards him, and as his eyes adjust slightly, he felt his chest tug painfully as he suddenly recognized the curve and sway of those hips.

“Bea?” he whispered, his voice coming out as a tremor.

She approached the stage, and it was though the floodgates had opened for Tom again - all the love and passion and desire he had felt for this woman had not diminished even one bit. She had on a pair of fitted jeans, with a creamy ivory sweater that set off her dark locks and brilliant green eyes. Tom swallowed, feeling his pulse racing. She was nothing short of stunning. His breath caught in his throat when he also noticed her wearing the earrings he had given her.

“Hi, Tom,” she said, smiling nervously, as she walked the stairs up to the stage, standing a few feet back.

Bobby trotted over to her, sniffing her shoes with interest.

“Well, hey - you must be Bobby,” she cooed, putting her hand out so he could sniff. Bobby started to lick her fingers happily and she took that as her cue to give him a few scratches behind his ear, which Bobby happily accepted.

“He’s a good scene partner,” she said to Tom, looking up from ruffling Bobby’s silky fur.

Tom tried to recover as best he could from the shock of seeing Bea, as he was pretty sure he was staring at her open-mouthed like some kind of moron.

“Oh, erm, ehehehe - yes, he is,” he sputtered, his face flushing in embarrassment. “He needs to work on his scene blocking though.”

She giggled a little and his heart soared to hear that beautiful sound again.

“What are you doing here?”

She tucked a stray lock behind her ear, and adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. “I saw the performance tonight. It was incredible, Tom. You were incredible.”

“But...how are you _here_?” Tom stuttered, still not quite believing Bea was in London and standing right in front of him.

She gave him a small, almost wistful smile. “Believe it or not, it’s because of Zawe.”

“What?!”

Bea nodded, releasing a sigh. “Yeah, I reached out to her a few weeks ago on Instagram and told her I was going to be in London and wanted to surprise you by coming to see the play. When she realized who I was and that I was not looking to put her head on a spike, she got me tickets for tonight. I made her promise not to tell you that I was coming.”

Tom felt his knees shaking beneath him. “But...I mean, that night-”

Bea stepped closer, putting her hand up to stop him. “Tom, I talked to her and she explained exactly what happened that night. When I found out that you kissed her, all these old feelings from Marcus came up to the surface, feelings I still hadn’t dealt with. I understand now that I should’ve stayed in Miami and talked to you about it, rather than run away and shut you out. I was punishing you for what Marcus did to me and you didn’t deserve that. It was cruel and unfair to you and I hope you can accept my apology.”

Tom ran a hand through his hair, still in disbelief. He felt the relief wash over him that she wasn’t mad at him anymore and had the urge to take her into his arms and not let go, but he was scared. Maybe she didn’t want to get back together and was just coming here to get closure with him.

“Of course I accept, Bea,” he said, his throat tightening with emotion. “I’m so sorry I hurt you and brought up all those old wounds. The last thing I wanted to do was to betray your trust, and I would do anything to take it back. I’ve missed you so much and I don’t care if you just want to be friends now - that’s fine. I just want to be back in your life.”

Tom watched as Bea pressed her lips together, a solemn look overtaking her face.

“Well, Tom, I’m afraid being friends is just not going to work for me,” she said, quietly as she walked up to him.

Tom felt his heart shatter again at her words. _Well, that answers that._

“Of course, I-I understand,” he said, his voice breaking slightly with the effort to keep himself together. “I know you -”

And then somehow, her lips were suddenly pressed to his in a passionate, but achingly sweet kiss. He let out a soft grunt of surprise and then immediately responded, wrapping his arms around her to hold her tightly to his body. He wasn’t about to question why she was kissing him. If this was the last time he ever got to do it, he was going to make it count. He felt the tears finally spill over his eyes as he felt her little hands clutch at his back. She tasted better than he ever remembered, and oh God, the way her body fit underneath him was nothing short of exquisite.

After a few seconds, which felt like an eternity and at the same time, not nearly long enough, she broke away from the kiss.

“Because I’d like to be more than friends, Tom,” she said huskily, her deep, peridot eyes searching his. “If you’d like that too.”

The happiness and relief that washed over him in that moment was incalculable. He couldn’t believe it. She still wanted him.

He rested his forehead against hers, his heart fluttering as he took in the sweetness of the freckles that dusted across her cheeks.

“I want nothing else in this world than to be yours again, little one.”

*****

A little while later, Tom pulled his Jag up to his house, going around to the passenger side to let Beatrice and then Bobby out. He walked the stairs up to his door with both of them close behind and realized his fingers were shaking as he worked the key into the lock. He wasn’t sure if it was just the adrenaline of having Bea here and back with him or if he was nervous. If he was honest with himself, it was probably both. He almost couldn’t contain his excitement to finally show Bea his home, but he also was apprehensive to push her too soon into sleeping together. Though she wanted him back, he realized she may not be at the point of getting intimate just yet.

They walked through the door, as Tom tossed his keys into the bowl on the entryway table and unhooked Bobby from his leash, who promptly proceeded straight to his food bowl.

“Please, come in and make yourself at home,” Tom said to Bea, motioning her into the kitchen. “Would you care for tea?”

She had been quietly taking in the surroundings of his house when he asked, walking slowly around the luxurious, yet homey kitchen.

“Sure, that would be lovely,” she said, turning and setting her purse down on the marble island.

Tom put the kettle on, his actions feeling rushed and jittery, as he knew Bea was watching him silently behind him.

_Get a hold of yourself_, he silently cursed himself.

He finally turned back around to see Bea smiling softly at him, sitting patiently at the island. God, he had missed her so much.

“So, what brings you to London?” he asked, leaning back against the kitchen counter and crossing his legs at the ankles. “You working on the new UK guide now?”

“Not exactly,” she said, demurely. “I had a meeting with our London office about a little over a month ago, then went to LA to take care of some stuff, and I’ve been here ever since.”

She looked up at him apprehensively, her emerald eyes locked with his.

Tom furrowed his brow, confused. “Wait? You’ve been here for almost a month? How long are you staying for exactly?”

Bea pressed her lips together, trying to suppress a grin. “I live here now, Tom.”

Tom’s mouth parted in surprise as he pushed away from the counter. “Wait- what? You live _here_ now? Here in London?”

Bea nodded, sliding off her stool and walking over to Tom. She took his hands in hers, squeezing them lightly, as if to reassure him that she was there and that this was real.

“Tom, when I left, I did a lot of soul-searching. Not only about us, but about where I was in my life and what I wanted out of it. I realized that though I loved traveling - and still do - I was also using it to keep everything and everyone at a distance. Roots were something I told myself I didn’t want, but they were actually the thing I craved the most.”

Tom couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and wouldn’t have been surprised if she could hear his heart nearly thudding out of his chest.

“I requested a meeting with our London office and said that I re-considered their offer for a permanent position there if they would have me, and they said yes.”

Tom licked his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. “So, you live here now? Permanently?”

Bea smiled sweetly at him, moving her hand up to stroke his cheek as his hands naturally dropped to her waist.

“Yep,” she said. “I have a little rental place in Camden until I can find something more permanent and I found someone who took my old apartment in LA.”

Tom moved his mouth slightly, but found no words would come out. _Camden? She was so close to him!_

She gave a little amused smile, and rested her hand on his chest.

“Tom, I know there are a lot of things we both need to work on, both individually and in our relationship. But, when I see my future - when I see what I want most in my life, it’s always you. It was always going to be you. I love you.”

Something akin to a relieved cry left Tom’s chest as he instantly crushed his lips against hers. Bea responded instantly, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him even closer to her. He let out a low moan at the taste of her lips and mouth as his tongue probed and carressed her own. As his hands moved down, cupping her generous ass, the tea kettle suddenly shrieked, making them both jump and laugh.

Tom immediately turned the stove off, moving the kettle off the burner, then promptly turning and moving swiftly towards Bea, hoisting her up off the ground and throwing her over his shoulder as she let out a squeal.

“Tom! What about the tea?” she giggled, as Tom climbed the stairs to his bedroom, lightly smacking her ass.

“Fuck the tea,” he growled. “I need to make love to my girl.”

*****

Once they finally reached Tom’s bedroom, he gently set Bea down on the large king-sized bed. Beatrice could feel her heart racing. She couldn’t believe she was finally here in Tom’s room on the plush, downy-white expanse of his bed she had seen and fantasized about over their Skype calls so many times. She went up onto her knees as he looked at her, his pupils blown wide with desire. She moved to take her sweater off but he stopped her.

“No, please Bea, let me,” he purred, stroking her cheek softly. “It’s been so long - I want to unwrap you like the gift you are.”

He took her hands in his and pulled her up so she was standing on the floor next to the bed and softly started to caress her hair, gently carding his fingers through the thick waves. She closed her eyes briefly in bliss as his fingers brushed over her cheeks, her lips, and the pale column of her neck. His lips would follow each pass of his fingers, leaving gentle kisses in their wake. Bea had never felt so loved.

“I had almost forgotten how good you felt, little one,” Tom murmured as he kissed the sensitive spot behind her ear, moving down to lightly suck and lick against her fluttering pulse on the side of her neck. “I hope I never do again.”

Bea sighed, moving her hand up to tenderly run her fingers through his silky auburn curls. She felt his large, warm hand move under her sweater, stroking along the sensitive skin of her abdomen. Instantly, she could feel her desire start to pool at the base of her spine. Every kiss and caress he bestowed was weighted with such love and tenderness it nearly brought her to tears. His fingers finally found the hem of her sweater, smoothly bringing it up and over her head in one movement. Bea was glad she decided to forgo the practical cotton bra she was going to wear tonight in favor of the plunging, white lace mesh one she was currently standing in front of Tom in.

She watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and she could tell he was trying to reign in his desire by the ravenous look his eyes suddenly took on.

“You’re the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen,” Tom said suddenly, his eyes looking wistful. “Did I ever tell you? The minute you stepped onto that plane and I saw you, I was a goner.”

Bea smiled, softly stroking his face, seeing the emotion in his face. “Tom, it’s okay.”

He grasped her wrist, closing his eyes as he turned to kiss her palm. “I was so scared I lost you forever,” he whispered.

She wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him in for a soft kiss. “I’m here, Tom - and I’m not going anywhere. I’m yours.”

He suddenly seemed to come back to himself and was instantly against her mouth as they both crashed together, falling onto Tom’s bed in the process. He kissed and nipped at the ample cleavage displayed in her bra, and moved down to unbutton her jeans.

“I need to see you, my little one,” he said, panting as he stood up again, pulling them down over her curvy hips as she lifted her butt slightly to help him. When he saw she was wearing the little cotton cherry panties she had worn on that Skype call, he practically growled in pleasure.

“Little minx,” he purred. “Wearing such sweet little panties for her daddy.”

She giggled as he crawled up between her legs, nuzzling his nose against the apex of her thighs, making her moan. He kissed her through the thin cotton of her panties, blowing warm air against her and inhaling the scent of her.

“God, Bea - the fragrance of you goes straight to my cock.”

And she could feel the proof of it as his length pressed against her leg, already hard and ready. Tom nipped at the inside of her thighs, tasting the sweet skin there, his hands reaching underneath to grasp the waistband of her panties. He pulled them down over her smooth legs, and promptly reached back underneath to grasp her ass with both hands to pull her to him.

He held her open wide between his broad shoulders, shamelessly admiring her glistening pussy.

“Oh, how I’ve missed this exquisite kitty,” he said dreamily, running his fingers through her silken folds. “So sweet and pink and positively dripping with honey.”

He bent down and gave a long, luxurious lick of her now-swollen lips and Bea nearly came off the bed. Tom grinned at her.

“Patience, my love,” he chuckled. “I’ve been waiting a long time to do this again and I’m going to enjoy my gorgeous girl.”

“Tom, please -” Bea moaned, eager for him to slake her thirst for him.

He chuckled darkly. “What is it you need, my little one? My fingers?”

Slowly he slipped a long finger into her volcanic heat as she moaned, instantly feeling her clamping around his digit wantonly.

“You need my fingers to fill you up, love?” he teased, as he slowly pumped in and out of her, adding a second finger as she arched up at the increased sensation.

“HNGGG….Tommm…”

Tom continued to tease her. “What is it, my love? Do you need to be stretched a little more so you can take daddy’s cock? It’s been a while, and you are so very tight. Here, let me help you, sweetheart.”

He slowly added a third finger, strumming her swollen clit with the pad of his thumb. God, she was like a vice around him.

“Oh, God TOM!”

By now, her hips were positively canting to meet up with the thrusts of his arm.

_This man is going to drive me insane_, she thought, breaking out in a sweat as he kept her right on the edge.

“Oh, dear,” he tutted. “My little one seems so terribly frustrated. Are my fingers in your exquisitely tight kitty not enough? This won’t do. Would my girl like for me to lick that sweet pussy for her?”

“YES! PLEASEPLEASE!”

Tom growled and fastened his lips around her clit, sucking as Bea gasped in pleasure. He moved his fingers faster now as his talented tongue swirled and lapped at her bundle of nerves. She felt the pleasure building in the pit of her stomach and knew she was close.

“Look at how beautiful you are like this, Bea,” Tom murmured, looking up at her from between her legs. “Gorgeously flushed, trembling, making the sweetest little gasps and moans. Will you come for me my sweet love? Will you show me how I make you feel?”

“Yes, Tom - please! Make me cum! I want to cum for you!”

Tom’s heart swelled as he quickly moved back down to suck that honeyed pink pearl back into his mouth. As soon as he did that, and curved his fingers inside of her, brushing against that familiar spongy spot deep inside her, she came screaming, her back bowing off the bed. Tom felt her juices gush down his hand, and he brought two fingers up to his lips, sucking her off them, relishing her taste.

“Oh, my good girl,” he sighed, moving up beside her and laying one of his enormous palms gently on her still-trembling abdomen. Her eyes were full of tears, overwhelmed and blissed out on sensations.

“There, there, love - I’ve got you,” he cooed, wrapping her up in his arms and bringing his comforter up over the both of them. “My good girl.”

Bea slowly felt herself start to come back as Tom held her tightly, letting her recover from what was easily one of the top three orgasms of her life. Ironically, Tom also held the other two positions on that list.

She felt him kiss her forehead, and she looked up into his eyes, which were sparkling in contentment.

“How are you feeling, love?”

Bea sighed, snuggling up against him. “Happy. The happiest I’ve ever felt.”

“Good,” he said, kissing her temple as he stroked her back softly.

“I could be happier though,” she said, her voice turning seductive.

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? How?”

Bea sat up, letting the comforter fall away from her. Reaching behind her, she unhooked her bra, letting her generous breasts spill out. Tom hissed through his teeth, his jaw twitching at the sight of her. She straddled his lap, feeling the insistent press of his erection through his pants. Her small fingers went up and began unbuttoning his shirt, as he took in her actions silently through heavily-lidded eyes.

Opening up his shirt so his chest was now exposed, she pressed her breasts against him, lightly moving back and forth so that her hardened nipples tickled his skin. His mouth parted, eyes closing briefly in arousal.

“I would be happier,” she cooed, peppering his neck with kisses. “If-” _kiss_, “my-” _kiss_, “daddy-” _lick_, “would-” _kiss_, “fuck-” _bite_, “me.”

Tom growled, instantly grabbing her by the waist and flipping her over onto her back as she squealed. He dove into her breasts, cupping and squeezing the plush globes like a man possessed. He fastened his lips around one of her stiff nipples sucking and grazing it with his teeth.

“Ohmygod yes!” Bea gasped.

Tom continued to bite and suck at the soft flesh and Bea knew she’d have marks the next day. She didn’t care. She wanted everyone to know she was his.

“Does my little one still want me to fuck her?” he said, coming up for air from where his face had been buried in the deep valley of her breasts.

“Oh yes, please!!!”

He stroked her softly between her legs, making her groan. “Oh, sweetheart, I think you can be more specific than that - after all, you’re a writer, aren't you?”

Damn him. The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing.

“OhpleaseTom! I need you inside me!”

“Oh my, I’m afraid that won’t do at all,” he tsked, taking his hand away from her and letting her nipple go with a soft “pop.”

Bea finally opened her eyes and Tom saw how wild with arousal they were.

“Please fuck me daddy,” she panted, locking her gaze with his. “I need your big, thick cock filling up my dripping pussy until you cum so deep inside me I can feel it in my throat.”

That was enough and Tom suddenly went up on his knees, unbuttoning his pants as Beatrice helped him, desperate to finally get them off.

Of course he was going commando, and as his pants went down his hips, his cock sprung forth, bobbing heavily in front of Bea’s face as he went back onto his knees again. Her mouth parted as she took in the turgid member in front of her, flushed deep red and leaking pre-cum at the tip. Tom looked down at her, biting at his bottom lip as she cooed and caressed over the length and size of him. He watched her little pink tongue dart out and lick the silky liquid that was collecting at the tip, closing her eyes and humming in pleasure at the taste of him. She locked eyes with him as she took him in her hand. Tom groaned at how small her hand looked wrapped around his cock.

He could do nothing but stare into the beautiful expanse of those wide, emerald eyes as she took him into the welcoming heat of her mouth.

“Fuuuuck,” he sighed, as her mouth suctioned around him, bobbing up and down on his length. “Such a good girl.”

He gently stroked her hair, trying to keep himself under control, but she was making it especially difficult, particularly when he felt himself slip down into her throat with an audible click.

“Oh, Christ love!” he exclaimed, sounding slightly strangled as he gently pulled her off of him, panting slightly.

She looked up at him, biting her plump lower lip worriedly.

“Oh no, my darling, believe me that mouth could cause men to jump off buildings for the chance to get to it, but I believe my little one asked me to fuck her dripping pussy and that’s what I intend to do.”

He pushed her back onto the bed, admiring the way her long, chocolate-brown tresses fanned around her in a shiny halo. She was nothing short of perfect. Her lips were reddened and swollen from her ministrations on his cock, her delicious kitty was flushed pink and shining with her juices. Tom could see the hunger in her eyes and just how breathless and eager she was for him by the heaving of her full breasts.

He smiled at her warmly as he lowered himself over her, gripping his cock by the base and slowly rubbing the tip against her swollen clit. Bea let out a moan from deep in her throat. Tom softly stroked her cheek, entreating her to look at him.

“My Bea,” his whispered, slowly pushing into her volcanic heat as she finally looked at him, her eyes brimming with emotion. “My heart, my love.”

“Oh god, Tom….” she groaned, feeling his thick cock stretch her wide.

Tom nearly lost it when he finally breached her. She was wet, so wonderfully wet and tight around him, squeezing his cock like a python. Bea looked down at where they were connected, her lips parted taking in the sheer eroticism of the sight of her pussy stretched taut by his flushed length.

“Yes, that’s it my sweet,” Tom murmured. “See how perfectly we fit together? How well your exquisite pussy takes my cock?”

She watched, feeling slightly light-headed as he reached down, bracketing his index and middle finger around where they were joined.

“See this?” he said, looking up at her, making her feel their connection at the junction of her pussy and his cock. “This is my home. This is where I belong. You are my home.”

Bea felt herself choke up at his words, tears of joy welling up in her eyes.

“You are my home too, Tom,” she whispered, and wrapped her legs around his waist, encouraging him to move inside her.

Tom took the cue and began to thrust in and out of her slowly, his hips curving up slightly each time he bottomed out, so that it hit her deep in that sweet spot each time.

Bea felt delirious at the sensations he was coaxing out of her, feeling more of her juices release at every thrust of that veiny, thick cock against her soft walls. She clutched at his back, her nails scratching down the long, hard muscles of his trapezius, hearing him groan as she did.

“Fuck, Bea you feel sooo good!” he gasped as his hips snapped against her.

“Oh Tom, oh god, I love how your fat cock feels in my tight pussy!” Bea cried out, feeling no sense of propriety anymore, drunk on the passion of the moment.

At her words, Tom gave a sound that sounded like a cross between a chuckle and a groan. “Oh, little one, you were made for me.”

Bea felt his balls slapping against her ass as he increased his speed. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, biting at her pulse point when she reached down to squeeze his tight ass, encouraging on his vigorous momentum. She felt the base of her spine coil tight and when Tom reached down to rub her clit, she felt everything from the waist down explode as stars pin-pricked across her vision. She screamed as she clenched down on Tom’s cock, her spasms around him finally pushing him over as well. He roared, his back arching as he spurted endless ropes of warm cum deep inside her cervix. Bea was mesmerized - the chords of his neck were red and straining and his mouth was parted wide in an expression of absolute pleasure.

He finally fell, spent, next to Bea’s still trembling form. He wrapped his arms around her, laying his head on her soft breasts as he tried to regain his breath.

“Bea…” he rasped, holding her close, trembling as he felt her wrap her arms around his shoulders. “I - I….”

“I know, Tom,” she said, stroking his curls lovingly as she planted a kiss on his moist forehead. “I love you too.”

*****

Tom awoke, grunting slightly as a slash of morning light hit him across the cheek. He groaned, turning over to reach for Bea and finding her side of the bed empty. He sat up, suddenly panicked, as he flashed back to the morning he woke up in Miami. He felt his heart start to pound in fear until he looked down and saw Bea’s clothes strewn across the floor. He could also faintly hear music coming from downstairs. He pulled on some black sweatpants and made his way down the hallway stairs.

The music got louder as he made his way to the kitchen, and he could smell fresh coffee brewing. The sight that greeted him when he reached the kitchen entryway made him smile.

Bea stood at the stove, her back to him, humming along to the music as she flipped a pancake. Tom could already see a dish of scrambled eggs keeping warm by the stove, and a container of blueberries set next to a mixing bowl. Though the breakfast looked delicious, it was nothing compared to the girl making it. Bea had thrown on one of his favorite t-shirts, a light blue one that was practically see-through. He knew among the fandom it was often referred to as the “Blue Shirt of Sex” and now he could see why. Tom could see the faint outline of her full, heart-shaped ass through the material as she wiggled it along to the music. He instantly felt his cock twitch and let out an involuntary groan.

Bea immediately squeaked and spun around, spatula in hand when she heard him. Tom’s cock instantly stood a full attention once he set eyes on the front of her in that shirt, as her voluptuous tits were straining against the extremely thin material, the dark rounds of her nipples clearly visible.

“Oh my God, Tom, you scared me!” she laughed.

Tom smiled, licking his lips as he moved over to her, sliding his hands around her waist.

“Sorry love, I was just mesmerized by the sight of a beautiful, naked girl in my kitchen cooking breakfast.”

He reached down, giving her ass a lusty squeeze as he bent down, kissing her soundly. She looked fairly surprised once he released her.

“I’m wearing a t-shirt though,” she said, slightly confused.

Tom chuckled. “Darling, you are wearing a rather infamous t-shirt of mine, which I’m finding out is way more see-through than I originally thought.”

Bea’s eyes went wide, as she looked down at herself, going to cover herself with her hands. “Oh really? I didn’t realize. It was the first thing of yours I found to throw on.”

Tom stopped her, gently grabbing her wrists so she couldn’t cover herself.

“Please darling, I should be thanking you for giving me such a lovely sight,” he said, bringing her close to him, pressing his now erect cock against her. “I don’t think you could ever be sexier than you are in this moment.”

Bea blushed, reaching up on her toes to bring him down into a passionate kiss. She could hear the song change over through the Bluetooth speakers and she felt Tom start to sway as he held her tight. He took one of her hands in his, the other arm wrapped around her waist as he started singing to her:  
  


_“Don't know much about history_   
_Don't know much biology_   
_Don't know much about a science book_   
_Don't know much about the French I took_   
_But I do know that I love you_   
_And I know that if you love me, too_   
_What a wonderful world this would be.”_

  
Bea rested her head against his strong, bare chest, sighing happily, as she felt the vibrations of his voice against her cheek as he sang. She knew in that moment that her life was beginning again, dancing in the soft, early-morning light with Tom. There was no fear anymore, no questions. Only this perfect moment, in this kitchen, with the man she loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Bea and Tom had their loving, smutty reunion!
> 
> If anyone is curious about it, the song that Tom sings to Bea at the end is "What a Wonderful World" by Sam Cooke (thought it was the perfect sort of happy song for them to dance too).


	10. Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of Bea and Tom comes to an end!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is more sentimental than I like to write, but wanted to do something sweet for them :) I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it! I may continue with Bea and Tom's story later on, so let me know if you guys would be interested in reading more about them. Thanks for all the wonderful comments and kudos!
> 
> **Also, am I the only one still swooning over Tom crying about Baby Yoda on Fallon? Omg, the two sweetest, most adorable angel babies in the world! Would die for both.
> 
> Per usual, the photo collage for this chapter can be found at my Flickr page here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/184448556@N07/49172757878/in/dateposted-public/

**T: Hey love, how’s my little guidebook doing?**

**B: Drowning in a sea of layouts, but much better now that I’ve heard from you.**

**T: We still on for lunch?**

**B: Sure! Where do you want me to meet you?**

**T: Why don’t we meet up at the Empire State building and figure it out from there?**

**B: Aww...feeling sentimental, my love?**

**T: You could say that, little one. I’ll see you soon. <3**

Bea smiled down at her phone, finally setting it down. She shifted in the seat at her desk, rubbing her temples as she looked down at the mock-ups for the next New York edition of the Lonely Planet guide. She couldn’t believe how much had changed for her in such a short amount of time.

After she had surprised Tom in London, they spent nearly every free moment together and after just a few weeks, she moved out of her Camden rental and into Tom’s flat. They had a moment of uncertainty when Tom’s Broadway debut date loomed over them, as it would mean him living in New York for the next four months while Bea stayed in London. However, she was able to coordinate with her London office to go work at the New York headquarters temporarily, so that she and Tom could be together, and they managed to set themselves up in lovely apartment not far from the Jacobs Theater, where they had been for the last three months. Both Tom and Bea knew that they wouldn’t always be able to get together, as he still had to go off and shoot movies all over the world, and Bea still had to travel a little for work. But they both felt confident about the strength of their relationship at this point to know that they could weather the time apart, as long as they made time for each other. Skype sexting was definitely a must. 

Bea couldn’t believe how lucky she was. Tom made her feel loved and safe and desired. A definite far cry from Marcus. She looked down at her phone again, scrolling through her texts with Tom until she found the very first one she had sent on that plane so many months ago, making her smile instantly:

**B: Hi from the seat next to you :)**

  
*****

A few hours later, Bea finally broke away from the office, hailing a cab to meet Tom at the Empire State building. As the fall weather was finally here, she grabbed her cream-colored cashmere trench coat, throwing it on over her olive-green jersey turtleneck top, which she had paired with a buttery-soft caramel-colored leather pencil skirt, and matching knee-length boots.

The taxi wound its way at a snail's pace through the Friday afternoon traffic, and Bea was relieved when the cab finally pulled up to West 34th Street. She quickly got out and pushed through the main doors, hoping Tom hadn’t been waiting too long. 

She instantly spotted him, standing next to the dark brown marble information desk. Her breath caught when she took him in. He was wearing a gray wool coat that stopped around his knees, with the collar popped up around his neck. Underneath, was a dark blue suit with a crisp white shirt and knit dark blue tie. Highly polished brown leather oxfords completed the sophisticated look. He looked like he had stepped off of a Ralph Lauren runway.

He spotted her and smiled, walking over and planting a gentle kiss on her lips.

“Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi,” she giggled back. “You look very dapper. When I left you this morning, you were wearing nothing but your birthday suit.”

Tom chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Oh? And which do you prefer?”

Bea giggled, resting her hands on his chest. “The birthday one. Definitely. So where should we go for lunch?”

Tom looked down at her, a small smile dancing at the corner of his lips. 

“We can figure that out a little later,” he said, cryptically. “How about we go up to the observation deck real quick since we’re already here?”

“Oh- okay….” Bea said, a little unsure. _Why the heck did he want to go up there? And in this cold weather?_

Tom winked at her, taking her hand as he led them towards the elevators. Bea noticed that for a Friday afternoon, it was distinctly less crowded than the last time they had been there. Tom held her next to him by the waist as they went up, both of them laughing as their ears popped with the altitude change.

They finally reached the 86th floor and as they stepped out of the elevator, Beatrice looked around, feeling slightly confused. It was empty. The observation floor was never empty. 

She walked around, finally looking back at Tom.

“There’s nobody here,” she said, perplexed.

“Well, that’s lucky isn’t it? Guess we have the place to ourselves.”

He took her hand in his, leading her over to the door to the outside deck. When he pushed it open, the chilly air blew through Beatrice. She had to admit though, it was a beautiful fall day - sunny and not a cloud in the sky. 

Bea realized that Tom was leading her over to the exact corner of the deck they had stood at before and for some reason, her pulse started to race. He pulled her against him, her body nestling against his and she sighed in contentment, feeling his warmth against her back as they looked out over the city. 

After a minute or so of silence, she heard Tom speak.

“Are you happy with me, Bea?”

Bea turned to look at him, Tom still keeping his arms securely around her waist.

“Of course I am,” she said, looking into the bright ocean of his eyes. She moved her hand up to stroke the thick auburn stubble of his cheek. “I never thought I’d love someone the way that I love you Tom, and I never thought I’d be loved so equally, if not more, in return.”

Tom pressed his lips together and grinned, making the dimple that Bea loved so much pop out on his cheek. His eyes sparkled happily.

“Good,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket. “Because I wanted to give you this.”

Bea watched as he pulled out a dark blue velvet jewelry box that looked similar to the one her earrings had been in. She swallowed hard, feeling her stomach fluttering in excitement.

“Don’t worry, it’s exactly what you think,” he chuckled and Bea laughed, instantly feeling tears springing to her eyes.

She watched as Tom knelt down in front of her, taking her hand in his. She couldn’t feel the cold air anymore - all she could feel was her blood pounding through her veins and tears of elation running down her cheeks.

“My Bea, my little one, my love,” Tom said hoarsely, sounding as though he was fighting off tears as well. “I brought you back here because this was the spot that I first realized that I loved you, and because I can think of no better spot to ask you to be my wife.”

Bea let out a shuddering gasp, tears now pouring down her cheeks. Tom squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“I know it hasn’t been easy for us to get here,” he continued, never taking his eyes off of hers. “But my life has been infinitely better ever since you sat down in that seat next to me. You are the most wonderful woman I have ever met and I want to spend the rest of my life with you right next to me.”

He opened up the box, revealing an incredible vintage, Art Deco-style engagement ring. 

“Oh, Tom….” Beatrice gasped, her hands flying up to her mouth.

“_When I said I would die a bachelor, I did not think I should live till I were married_,” he said, unable to stop the tears spilling from his eyes. Bea let out a joyful sob as she recognized that line. It was spoken by Benedick about Beatrice in _A Midsummer Night's Dream_.

“Please marry me, my Bea. Please make me the luckiest man in the world.”

Bea fell to her knees, crushing Tom into an embrace as she crashed her lips against his, kissing him over and over, finally pulling away and taking his face into her hands.

“Of course, I will marry you Tom,” she said, looking into his now-reddened eyes as they went wide with relief and joy.

He crushed her to him again, laughing tearfully into the side of her neck. Finally pulling away, he took the ring out of the box and gently slid it onto her finger. Beatrice was in awe. She had never seen anything so beautiful. It was perfect.

They sat there for a little while, embracing each other as they looked at the ring on her finger. Finally, Tom pulled her up to her feet. 

“I wish we could stay longer, but I could only get this floor shut down for so long,” he grinned. 

Beatrice socked him playfully on the arm. “I knew it! How long have you been planning this?”

“Since I first met you, Bea,” he whispered, kissing her softly on the lips.

They made their way back towards the elevator, and as they stepped inside, Tom held out his hand to her. 

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Beatrice gave him her hand, the ring sparkling brightly under the lights. She looked at him and smiled as the doors began to close.

“Absolutely.”


End file.
